Bjorn excused himself to go shower, leaving Art and me to watch the waning sun from the deckchairs.

“So this is your life now,” I wistfully said to Art, handing him one last cigarette.

“So this is my life. Things were rough after college. Life sucked. Depression majorly kicked my ass. And then I met Bjorn. I wouldn’t say he saved me; that would imply a degree of co-dependence. But I will say he helped me save myself. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope you find a Bjorn-type for yourself.”

“One of us should’ve studied cloning then.” 

“I know you’re being funny, but I’m serious. You deserve to be happy.”

“Someday,” I said out loud. What I kept silent was the rest: Someday, after I’ve lost weight. Someday, after I get back in shape. Someday, when I look good with the lights on. Someday, someday, always someday.

---

The temperature dropped swiftly after the sun finally set. Art suggested we watch a movie, not in the living room downstairs, but in their “bedroom”. I say “bedroom” because the room was larger than any bedroom has the right to be. Their bed was massive too, and I tried to visualize how the bed was even brought upstairs through the front door. I was unsuccessful.

Art pressed a few buttons on a remote control and the room came to life. Blinds all lowered in sync and a projector overhead clicked on, turning the wall opposite the bed into a screen.

“Remember that little 24” TV we found on the sidewalk? The one that took forever to turn on, but we loved it because it was ours? Yeah, bit of an upgrade since then.” Art said it with pride for how far he had come, and not out of materialistic bravado. 

“I bet porn looks amazing,” I said.

“You’d think so, but sometimes it’s like watching a colonoscopy video. No one needs that much ‘reality’ in their porn. Porn is for fantasy, and fantasy is never as good as real life.”

And as if on cue, Bjorn stepped out of the bathroom, His waist was daring the terrycloth towel to hang on. He was not as ripped as the guys I ignored from Grindr. He wasn’t even as trim as the photo Art had shown me earlier. But what he was, was collected, casual, and confident. He was the sexiest person I had seen all day. He lay down towards the middle of he bed and patted the edge next to him. Art “assumed the position” and nuzzled into Bjorn’s chest.

“You don’t have to stand there. You can join us,” he said, patting the other side of him. I wasn’t aware that I had even been standing. I felt a surge of anxiety, like I was an intruder into their space. I knew that this was all because of my own thoughts and fears, but that realization did not make the worries any easier to handle. I smiled politely and laid down stiffly on the opposite side as I tried to relax. So much empty space in the bed, a massive gap between the edge I nervously clung to and the space occupied by the happy couple. They were more naked than I was, but I felt more exposed. I wrestled with my self-imposed issues as Art cued up a movie on Netflix. I don’t even remember which movie it was as I nodded off to sleep before the opening credits had finished rolling.

---

When I woke up, the movie was over and the room was barely lit only by accent lights. A strong arm was wrapped around me and I nuzzled my face against a hairy… dammit. I had rolled over in my sleep. I knew I should have gotten up, but it had been so long since I had felt that sort of physical contact. I went to move but a strong arm held me close. 

“Hope we didn’t wake you.” I recognized Bjorn’s deep voice gently whispering to me.

“No, you’re fine. I’m really sorry I –”

“Shhh. You’re fine. You’re on vacation. It’s all good.”

“Where’s Art?” Bjorn reached for the remote and the lights brightened. I found my answer between Bjorn’s legs. Art sucked on Bjorn’s cock in a slow and deliberate rhythm, pausing only briefly to acknowledge me with a wink. I wanted to know how big Bjorn’s cock was, but what wasn’t in Art’s mouth was being massaged by his hand.

“I thought I might’ve woken you when I came just now.” 

I licked my lips, forgetting that the lights were now bright enough to be seen.

“Oh really?” Bjorn chuckled. I could feel his laugh reverberate through his chest against my head. I felt small but I felt safe; for now. I felt his finger running through my hair as Art sucked the last drops of Bjorn’s load. “How’s my load taste?”

Art moaned and removed his hand from Bjorn’s cock as he deep throated it. With his free hand, he reached up and rubbed the slobber on Bjorn’s nipple closest to my face. Bjorn’s hand on the back of my head guided my mouth to his nip. Instinct took over and like a dog waiting for a command, I waited for my command. 

“Taste it.”

I licked, tasting someone else’s cum for the first time in months. The familiar salty taste of cum flooded my senses. I savored it, rolling it between my tongue and the hair around Bjorn’s nip that was getting hard.

And then it happened. I felt Bjorn tug at my shirt, trying to help me get undressed. Pleasure was replaced with fear of being seen in this light. Of being exposed. Of being unwanted when the truth is revealed in this brightness. I wanted that freedom to enjoy the moment, but it was gone, locked away where it couldn’t be misused. 

“Sorry. I think I just ruined it.” I pulled away but Bjorn held on.

“You didn’t ruin anything. But something’s going on with you and we want to help. And before you say anything, it’s not out of pity. You matter to Art, so you matter to me. Understand, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” I say quietly. I know things can’t continue like they have been for me. I trust Art, and if Art trusts Bjorn, then so should I.

“I want you to see yourself the way I see you. Come with me.” Bjorn got up and led me to the full length mirror as Art made the lights brighter in the room. There was nowhere for me to hide my flaws. Again, Bjorn pulled at my clothes. I wanted to resist, but more than that fear of being seen was the fear of things never changing. I kept my head down as I felt his warm body press against me, his soft hairy chest against my back, his soft cock still fluffed as it pressed against my ass. 

“You asked me what I would fix.” I felt his hand reach from behind, resting under my chin, lifting it up, forcing me to see myself in the mirror. His voice was gentle in my ear as he said, “Nothing. Nothing needs to be ‘fixed’.”

I tried to hold my stoic composure as I fought against, what, acceptance? Art stood in front of me as the couple held me between them. My body shook, just like it does before a fever breaks and the worst is about to pass.

---

We did get around to fucking that night… and the next morning… and several times more that trip. The sex was great (no, Bjorn’s cock wasn’t pornstar massive; yes, he did knew how to masterfully work it), but it was what he said to me at breakfast the next morning that I’ll always remember. 

“You’re an architect, so let me put it in those terms. A building is not a home, no more than a body is the soul that resides in it.”

And for that lesson, I’ll always be grateful to Art and his Papa Bear.

---

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