The Cardmaker and the Caretaker - 14. Chapter 14 Confronting past and present matters

Patrick nipped into their bedroom to get the key for the other room. He unlocked the door and opened it gently, so as not to disturb the dust he expected to have accumulated in three years of no use. There was a large table in the middle of the room; it had been the working space for him and his father when they made cards together. Alongside one wall there were shelves and in front of them stood the cardboard boxes which held the belongings of his parents. Otherwise the room was empty. There were two windows; one opposite the door and one on the empty wall, and in addition there was a skylight, which his dad had installed when the room changed from bedroom to work room.

“I think perhaps I should have the room cleaned before we go through the boxes. I don’t want to carry dust into the rest of the house.” Patrick’s voice echoed against the bare floorboards and walls.

“Hmm, good point, although it’s not too bad.” Peter stepped gingerly into the room and Patrick followed him towards the boxes. They were stacked in three layers and the dust covered the top one thickly. The men didn’t touch the boxes; the coating of particles was too thick to risk stirring.

“You’re a very organized man, my love,” the Dane said admiringly, slinking an arm around Patrick’s shoulders.

“Huh? Oh, you mean the labels,” the cardmaker replied as his lover gestured towards the clear print on the side of almost every box.

“Photos. Letters. Jewellery and mementoes. Travel items. Books. Cooking books. China,” Peter read from the pile of boxes. “Did your parents travel to China often since you have three boxes with that label?”

“Travel to China?” Patrick felt as if his brain was only half functioning. Suddenly, the question clicked and he let out a sound which was half sob, half laugh. “Ohhh, no, China means cups, bowls and plates…”

He remembered his mother setting out her beautiful plates for special occasions like Christmas, birthdays, his parents’ wedding anniversary, his graduation, Easter Sunday. There was silver cutlery too and crystal wine glasses. She would decorate the table with flowers or an arrangement with holly, cones and fir in winter. After she died, he couldn’t bear to see the things he no longer had any use for, but of course he couldn’t get rid of them either.

Peter’s laugh brought him out of the funk. “Of course, I’m an idiot. I forgot what China also means over here. Anyway, it seems as if you did a thorough job of sorting out your parents’ stuff already. We could make a list of the labels and you can make a decision later.”

“I’d forgotten about the boxes being labelled. In fact, I can’t even remember sorting their stuff this much. I guess I must have been zombie-like at the time. But it does make it a lot easier now.” He wanted to slap himself for being a wuss; why did he feel so uneasy when confronted with these boxes? Or was it the room itself? Before he could work out why he felt almost nauseated, Peter let go of him, pulled out his cell phone and took a few pictures. Then he slid his arm around the cardmaker’s back and gently led him from the room. Closing the door and locking it, he put the key in Patrick’s hand.

“How about we go and cuddle on our bed for a bit? You look like you could use some TLC.”

TLC? Again Patrick’s mind was blank, but the sweet angel popped into his head, saying ‘Awww, Tender Loving Care’ with hands clasped in front of its chest. He took Peter’s hand and dragged him into their bedroom and tried to ignore the imp appearing behind the angel. Although he almost wanted to laugh at the I’m-gonna-puke and yuk-sentimental-crap faces the cheeky devil made at them as it mocked ‘yeah, he needs TLC – a Thick’n Long Cock – shoved up his TLC – Tight—’

Before the cheeky little sod got any further, the cardmaker flipped both of the silly creatures off in his head as he dumped a surprised Dane on the bed and jumped on top. He attacked Peter’s mouth, moved down to nibble on his neck and did his best to show him what kind of cuddle he wanted most of all. The imp imploded in the middle of yelling ‘Yeah man, go for it’ and somehow Patrick felt the angel had already departed in an earlier combustion, unnoticed as he ravaged his lover’s hot lips. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped they were gone for good, somehow he’d gotten used to them and even found them funny.

Peter’s answering kisses and quiet grunts made him forget everything else and the two men wrestled and ground against each other for a few minutes. Finally, Patrick managed to pin the Viking by sitting on his chest using hands and knees to keep his arms immobile. Of course, Peter could have employed his legs to upset the balance, but he simply lay there and grinned up at the panting cardmaker.

“I like your way of cuddling, although I would have preferred fewer clothes.” His eyes slid down to the bulging crotch in front of him and he licked his lips. “Not to mention getting another taste of you.”

“Hopefully tonight and I want to taste you too. I missed out on that yesterday. Do you like getting blowjobs?”

“You bet I do and I like giving them too.” The blue eyes flicked back down to where Patrick’s cock was trying to burst out of his pants. It was definitely in favour of testing Peter’s announcement right now, and he held back a moan at the idea. In order to avoid temptation he moved to lie next to his fiancé after giving him a quick kiss. He carefully avoided looking when Peter reached down to adjust himself.

“Perhaps we should go for a run now?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I really miss my routine of morning runs, and I’d like you to come with me.”

“I’d like you to cum with me too,” Peter told him.

“I will, tonight. Well, if Michael sleeps downstairs again.” He gave Peter another kiss and jumped off the bed. “Come on, you lazy Dane, let’s go.”

“It’s too soon after breakfast,” he grumbled.

“Nonsense, we’ll start out with a gentle jog and work our way towards sprinting.”

Walking over to his closet, Patrick stripped his shirt off and opened the button and zipper of his jeans, sighing at the relief it afforded. He found some running clothes and stepped to the nearby chair so he could change. Removing his pants revealed he was already wearing a jock, and the groan behind him showed Peter liked the view.

“Fuck, Patrick, you’re killing me. Turn around and let me see.”

“Oh no, if I do we won’t get anywhere. And do you really want to explain to Michael or Grethe why our bedroom door is locked in the middle of the day?” Actually, the door was only closed right now, not locked, and the thought of the boy bursting in on him almost naked helped deflate the problem rather quickly. He pulled on the sweat pants, T-shirt and hoodie, and turned around to grin at Peter.

The blond hunk let out a frustrated grunt but got up and went over to the suitcase lying next to the closet. While he pulled out running gear and got changed, Patrick chatted about how to make space for his things. This didn’t prevent him from enjoying the moment the man dropped his underwear and tried to fit himself into a blue jock. Peter had his back to him, but he didn’t mind since the muscular ass was delicious and he got a glimpse of the hole he wanted to possess. Thank God Peter was versatile or at least willing to give it a try.

When they were both ready, they went down to say bye to Michael and Grethe, who were playing a game with small numbered blocks of plastic at the kitchen table. She had a bowl of cut fruit next to them and was clearly making an effort to persuade Michael to eat the healthy snacks. Patrick decided to lend his support and fortunately he recalled a couple of the relevant Danish words.

“Uhmm, aeble og melon,”[1] he said as he pretended to make a grab for the bowl.

Michael giggled and swatted his hand away. “Mine, Papa,” he proclaimed.

“Awww, please,” Patrick begged and squatted next to the boy’s chair like an eager puppy.

Michael giggled again, took a piece of fruit from the bowl and popped it into his mouth. While he chewed he found another piece and held it out to Patrick, who slurped it up and ate the apple square with exaggerated om-nom-nom sounds. They played this game for a minute until half the fruit was gone. Then Patrick said ‘Tak for mad’ and stood up. From the approving smiles of the other adults he knew they were pleased with the amount of fruit Michael had eaten. Grethe handed the boy a tissue to wipe his hands before going back to the game.

“Can you lock the front door behind us, Mosta, and let us in when we get back? Saves me from taking a key.”

“Certainly, dear.”

“Thanks, we’ll give you a shout when we leave.”

Prior to setting out the two men did a few stretches and limbering-up exercises in the hall, chatting about how far they would run. At one point Peter stepped over and hugged him briefly.

“I love the way you interact with Michael and how you’re always aware of his needs.”

“Thank you, it means a lot to me to have you say so. He has won my heart in his own way, you know, almost as much as you have.”

“You want to be his father, don’t you; not only by love, and us getting married, but by adoption too?” The eager belief in Peter’s voice showed he already knew the answer.

“Yes, Peter, of course I do. I’ve already mentioned it to my solicitor, and he thinks we should both talk to him or another lawyer who specializes in family law. I was going to ask Anthony’s advice tonight.”

“Good,” was all he replied but the kiss which followed showed how much Peter appreciated the mutual understanding they had given voice. After a few final preparations they left with a ‘See you later’ to Grethe.

Their run started out slow as promised but in the park Patrick gradually increased the speed until Peter started to lag behind. He eased back so they could keep running side by side, and the Dane did his best but finally had to give up.

“For fanden da,”[2] he muttered, grinding to a halt and bending over to pant heavily. Patrick didn’t have to ask to know he was swearing in Danish.

“I’ll do a loop and a few sprints and join you back here,” he told Peter, who waved him off with more heavy breathing of unknown four-letter-words. They had stopped next to a playground in the park and when he returned, Peter was busy doing pull-ups using a conveniently placed metal cross bar on one piece of playground equipment. Patrick was relieved to see there were no children and parents around. He waved at his fiancé who did two last pull-ups with his chin well above the bar before dropping to the ground and walking over.

“Hey there, are you done with running?”

“Mmmhmm, ehm, I’m not sure you’re supposed to use the playground if you’re not with a child.”

“Don’t worry, I would have stopped if any children had come by, but no one did. But I look forward to finding a proper gym. All this running is too exhausting.” The grin on his face showed he was teasing.

They jogged slowly home and as they were approaching the house, the couple next door came out of their abode. Patrick increased speed so he could get past before they had locked up and reached the road. He didn’t want to meet them and risk another disapproving glare. Peter kept his leisurely pace and slowed down to a walk as he reached the place where they stood next to the pavement, waiting for him to pass. He gave them a nod, a smile and a casual “Good day,” but didn’t pause for any answer.

The cardmaker was waiting for Peter on the doorstep. He saw them both stiffen at the Dane’s greeting and turn away to stalk up the road without looking back. ‘Never mind,’ he told himself and rang the doorbell. ‘I’m not going to care about them. It’s not as if I was acquainted with them before Peter arrived.’

“How about taking a shower together?” The blond Viking made him forget all about stupid neighbours.

“I guess it might save water,” he said just as Grethe opened the door.

“Welcome back. Did you have a nice run, dear?”

Patrick wasn’t sure whom she was addressing, but chose to reply. “Yes, great.”

“He’s too fast for me to catch,” Peter grumbled, and his aunt chuckled.

“I’d say you’ve caught Patrick already, or at least his heart.” She reached out and tapped the ring on Peter’s left hand. “Did you call your mum and tell her the news?”

“No, I’ll do it this afternoon.”

As he chased him up the stairs Patrick wondered if the curt answer was due to Peter being out of breath or to the matter being a sore one. As they locked themselves in the bathroom and undressed, he pondered whether to ask or not. Peter embraced him from behind and nibbled on his neck while he adjusted the water temperature. The close touch made his wish for intimacy overrule any other concern, and Patrick made the decision to shelve the matter for now. Pulling Peter into the shower, he grabbed the liquid soap and began washing his fiancé’s sexy body.

From the way Peter reacted it was clear he expected them to be fully intimate. He returned the favour as he soaped Patrick’s body, and of course they were both erect almost immediately. But Patrick wasn’t going to rush anything. He’d learned about anticipation, teasing and withholding during his years of lonely self-gratification. He might read erotica or watch porn, but refrain from touching himself. Later in the shower he would close his eyes and run his hands over various parts of his body, pretending he was touching his lover and being caressed in return. He might even edge close to coming, but hold back in order to achieve a spectacular orgasm when he went to bed and used a dildo on himself after prolonged foreplay.

Of course having a real flesh and blood lover to kiss and touch was better than any fantasy he’d ever been able to conjure up. Running his hands along firm muscles and warm skin, teasing the blond chest hairs and playing with Peter’s nipples made his fingers tingle. The soft grunts of appreciation when he cupped the heavy balls and made sure his man was clean everywhere, was heavenly music to Patrick’s ears. He considered getting down on his knees for his first taste of cock, but decided it was too risky. He had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

With a final kiss on warm sexy lips he stepped back. “All clean now, lover boy. I think we’re done here.”

“Hvaaad?[3] Ehm, what do you mean by ‘done?’ Aren’t you forgetting something?” An incensed Viking gestured at their erections and tried to entice Patrick back for more intimacy by sidling around and embracing him from behind. His cock nestled happily along the taut buttocks and a large hand reached down to fondle an equally hard manhood.

“Save it for tonight, my love. We’ll run out of hot water soon and I really do need to get to the shop.”

Patrick reached out and shut off the water. Stepping away from his hot Dane required will-power but knowing the rewards which would come from waiting helped too.

Peter didn’t try to hold him back and they grabbed a towel each and dried themselves. However, he did pout eloquently.

“You’re a terrible tease. Wicked, I say, and you were so innocent before last night. I won’t be able to fit into my trousers, and we can’t leave the bathroom like this.”

“Being inexperienced and a virgin has nothing to do with being innocent. I’ve had years to think about what I want, and work out what I like. Now I get to put my plans into practice.”

“This is part of a plan?” The mock outrage in Peter’s voice made the cardmaker chuckle.

“Trust me,” was his only answer before wrapping the towel around his waist and making a quick escape to their bedroom.

***

Later on, while working in his shop, Patrick smiled every time he thought about this conversation. Peter may be more experienced physically, but there was a cute kind of cluelessness in the way he regarded his new lover. It had mostly shown in his reaction to Patrick revealing owning a dildo, but in other ways too. But if nothing else, the internet was a great place to research the mechanics of sex and which kind of kinks turned you on or not. Using a combination of porn, romantic erotica and factual information searches he had managed to create various scenarios which constituted his dreams of making love. Peter had certainly fulfilled one of the most important fantasies yesterday, but there were plenty left.

The afternoon passed quickly; helping the few customers felt easier than ever, and even the card for Anthony’s mother got finished in record time. He made a rainbow the main theme, thinking she was of a generation who was familiar with the song ‘Over the rainbow,’ but it was also a nod to her unconditional support of the couple against less broad-minded people in the family. Each colour at one end of the rainbow tapered to a thin line leading to a decoration showing the way Anthony and John felt about Lily. The blue morphed into a calm lake with a beautiful white swan guarding two fluffy cygnets. The green became a four-leaved clover with a ladybird surrounded by a horseshoe to show they felt lucky to have her on their side. The yellow shone as a smiling sun on a flower bed with the most beautiful lilies he was able to craft.

Shortly after six Peter arrived and Patrick got up to greet his fiancé with a kiss.

“Did you have a nice afternoon together with Michael?”

“Yes, we managed to make more plans for his room and talked about what’s going to happen on Monday.”

“Is he OK about going to the hospital?”

“Yeah, he knows he’s coming back home after ten or twelve days. The intensive scans and testing will happen on Monday but he should be able to spend the first nights at home. If all goes well, they’ll carry out the scheduled surgery on Thursday.”

Peter didn’t need to explain this was when Michael would be in hospital for a longer period, although hopefully a successful operation would see their son released to his family’s care within a short time.

“Will I be able to visit him?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t you?”

“I seem to recall my mum saying visits to the children in the paediatric cardiac ward was restricted, in order to minimize the risk of infections. “

“Well, parents are allowed, and you’re his papa,” Peter said and took the cardmaker’s hand as they sat down on the sofa together. “Just make sure to wrap up warmly, so you don’t get a cold.”

“I’m not his parent in the eyes of the hospital, but maybe they’re more tolerant than I fear. In any case, it’s more important for Grethe to be approved as visitor, since she can talk with Michael and will be involved in his care.” Patrick had been thinking about this during the afternoon and he knew Michael needed the older woman a lot more than his new papa.

“Moster is already scheduled to be there with Michael. I told them during the initial meeting she would be in charge of Michael during the post-surgery recovery. They were very pleased to hear she’s a nurse. Their policy is the same as in Denmark: the shortest possible stay at the hospital as long as there’s appropriate care at home. You and I will help, of course, but she’ll set up the rules, monitor his progress and decide if he’s OK or needs to return to the hospital. There’ll be scheduled check-ups, but unforeseen things can happen.”

“You’ve thought of everything, and I’ll do my part. Getting Michael’s room set up must be a priority as well as getting someone to clean the house twice a week.”

“Actually, Moster and I talked it over. She thinks it would be better if he is in the room downstairs while he has to stay in bed most of the time. It’s easier if she doesn’t have to run up and down the stairs. I noticed the double bed in the guestroom is actually two beds. We could remove one to make room for a hospital bed for Michael. Moster says she’ll rest easier if she’s sleeping in the same room during the first, most critical phase. Later, when it’s just a matter of building his strength, he’ll be fine in his own room upstairs.”

“Just tell me what needs to be done and we’ll make it happen. Our son is all that matters.”

Suddenly, Patrick found himself pulled into a crushing embrace and kissed fervently, in between whispers of “I love you.” He was happy to return the hugs and kisses, knowing his Viking was overwhelmed with intense delight at him calling Michael ‘our son.’ Maybe it was a good thing the term had slipped out without him intending to. Perhaps he should make a list of new favourite phrases: I love you, my husband, our son, our home, my family…what else? He got distracted by Peter nibbling his way from ear to mouth and initiating another deep kiss.

“Ooops, sorry, we’ll come back later.” John’s voice was full of barely contained amusement.

Shit. Their new friends. Good phrase to add to the list, assuming he would ever get over the embarrassment. Patrick broke away and made himself turn and face the grinning redhead. Even Anthony was sporting an amused smile. Before he could speak, John held up both hands.

“I know, I know; we’re early. But it was totally worth it. The hottest thing I’ve seen for ages. Well, apart from Tony naked and—”

“John!”

“Sorry, don’t mind me. Please introduce us to your blond hunk, I mean your tame Viking…eeek.” John’s excited prattle cut off with a yelp when his husband moved in and pinched his butt.

Peter burst out laughing and stood up to shake hands with both of them.

“Pleased to meet you, guys. I’m Peter, and I assume you’re Anthony and John?”

They nodded and sent Patrick amused glances. He finally pulled himself together.

“Sorry about that. Ehm, the card for Lily is over here, if you want to see it?” Not knowing what to say Patrick took refuge in the familiar and motioned the newly arrived couple towards the back of the shop. The card was displayed on a stand and both men muttered appreciative words.

Patrick slipped the card into the handmade envelope and handed it to Anthony, who put the finished product in his briefcase and got out his wallet. They moved to the front of the shop and sorted out the payment and Patrick said he would need ten minutes to close the shop.

“That’s fine. We can get acquainted with Peter in the meanwhile. John likes him already, and I can see why you’re smitten. He seems like a genuinely nice guy.”

The normally quiet lawyer was surprisingly frank, but he obviously meant every word. The cardmaker surmised Anthony was used to taking stock of clients and other people and had good instincts. In spite of the awkward start he thought they might have a great evening ahead of them.