In this Bed of Snowflakes we Lie

by Sophia Soames

  “You naughty little minx.” Erik laughs, his head already bent over the side of the bed, hands tugging at a cardboard box stuck under the frame.

  “I cheated. Still got the extra credit.” Oskar is on his stomach, his face in the pillow. “I have never done anything like that before, but I just couldn’t do it.”

  “Wow.” Erik sits up with the open box on his lap. “Fuck.”

  “What?” Oskar doesn’t even look up, his face still buried deep in the cotton pillowcase.

  “Cock rings? Seriously, Oskar? And Super-smooth, latex-alternative, extra-strong condoms? Astroglide light? For sensitive skin? We are going to have so much fun. It’s like fucking Christmas in a box.”

  “It is Christmas, you prat.” Oskar laughs into the pillow.

  “I know,” Erik says and throws himself down next to Oskar. Kisses his shoulder. “Look at me,” he says, and Oskar reluctantly turns his head. “You want to do this?”

  Oskar just nods. “I really want this.”

  “This?”

  “Yeah. Just you and me and… Fuck you. Don’t make me say it.”

  “You don’t—” Erik starts, but Oskar smashes his hand over Erik’s mouth.

  “We do,” Oskar says. “I do.”

  “So fucking bossy,” Erik mumbles under Oskar’s hand. And Oskar removes his hand and replaces it with his mouth.

  “Do it,” Oskar says, then his mouth is back on Erik’s. Eating his mouth like it’s dessert.

  Oskar is all over him, one minute straddling him, and the next, his limbs are moving all over Erik’s body. He’s like a kid on Christmas morning again, playing with his new toy not knowing where to start. And Erik doesn’t have the heart to slow him down, because in all his uncoordinated, unhinged glory, Oskar is like no one else Erik has ever seen.

  He’s doing this. All in. His mouth licking lines down Erik’s chest. Sucking bruises into his hipbones whilst his fingers are playing with Erik’s cock. Up and down, just soft feather-light strokes that make Erik whinge out in frustration and thrust his hips into Oskar’s hands. Begging.

  Please. Just touch me and give me what I need.

  So, he just lets himself lie there, his hands clumsily resting on Oskar’s shoulders as Oskar places little kisses on Erik’s cock. Little licks and sucks. His hands kneading Erik’s buttocks as his mouth wreaks havoc down the inside of his legs. He will be bruised tomorrow. Blotches of red already following Oskar’s trail of destruction down his chest. And he loves it. He loves the way Oskar is manhandling him, tugging at his hips to get a better angle. Licking under his balls. Kissing him. Down there. He is fucking down there, and his mouth is there, and Erik just squeals as his legs gets forced apart.

  “Lube,” Oskar demands from between his legs and Erik grapples desperately in the box. Sachets. Bottles. Boxes hitting the floor as he tips the whole lot out on the bed and hands Oskar the bottle.

  “You’re going to do me?”

  “What?” Oskar mumbles from between his legs, not letting his pace slow for a second as his tongue licks a line across Erik’s taint, making his whole body shiver.

  “I thought you wanted me to fuck you? Are you fucking me instead? Is that what we are doing?”

  Fuck. He thought this was something he might not be into. He has seen porn, okay? He knows what this entails. The idea of it is hot as fuck. Reality? Awkward.

  “Would you let me?” Oskar whispers, his face all flushed as he pops up between Erik’s knees.

  Erik’s legs are clamping around Oskar’s head. Oskar who has his finger down there, and there is this slippery lube shit dripping everywhere and then Oskar shuffles up, and fuck.

  He has gotten blown before. Not that he kind of remembers much, but he has had a wet hot mouth on his cock before, yet right now he feels like a bloody virgin on his wedding night. Fuck. Because Oskar’s mouth is just something else. He might be a bit heavy-handed with the kissing, but fucking hell, he knows his way around Erik’s cock. Erik might be the one who needs bloody lessons.

  “You can do anything… to me,” Erik replies, his head too confused to figure out what he actually means. Not that he’s that bothered, because he’s so bloody turned on right now that he probably couldn’t form a fully correct sentence if he tried. “Whatever you want… just do it.” His mouth slurs whilst his brain starts to backtrack, wondering if this is the time to call for a time-out. But then Oskar’s mouth pops off Erik’s cock and all his rational thoughts seem to evaporate as the sudden need for more scrambles his brain.

  “Okay?” Oskar mumbles, his voice all gravelly.

  “You need to teach me how to do that, it feels bloody amazing.” Erik howls as the tip of his cock hits the back of Oskar’s throat. Then Oskar swallows, or something, and there are explosions going on up Erik’s spine and his legs are up in the air and fucking hell, is that a finger? Up his bum?

  He thinks he might be howling, but then, he may just be kind of spluttering out spit and drooling, because something that feels this weird can’t possibly feel amazing at the same time. But it does. And Oskar’s finger is moving in and out in soft little movements, just slowly as his mouth is doing indescribable, torturous acts to his cock.

  Seriously, the fireworks in his spine have just doubled as he pretty much rolls on the bed with Oskar still attached to his cock as Oskar pulls out and then there is this delicious pressure as he sticks his fingers back in. Fingers? There is definitely more than one finger up his arse. Filling him up and Erik wants. He wants more. Yes, it’s weird, and maybe it’s not entirely painless, but it’s fucking sexy and he can’t believe he even thinks it, but he still shouts it. Shouts it out.

  “Do it!” he shouts.

  “Do what, baby?” Oskar replies, before sinking down over Erik’s cock again as Erik just groans. Loudly. He never realised he was this vocal in bed. Fucking hell.

  “Fuck me!” he roars, pushing Oskar’s mouth off him, letting his body roll over on his stomach. His legs feel like jelly, and his body is full of something he can’t quite explain. Like he is on drugs. Or has the sugar rush of the century. Whilst Oskar sits on his knees on the bed staring at him like Erik has lost his mind.

  Erik is behaving like some sex-deprived slut, sticking his arse in the air with no shame, and burying his face in the pillows. He promised Oskar to fuck him. Yet, here he is, stealing the show again. Being selfish and arrogant and needy and fucking hell, it’s even better like this with Oskar on his knees behind him and his fingers are going even deeper inside now, and yes yes yes yes yes… when he just angles his bum up like that, it’s like nothing else.

  “Oh fuck. Oh yes.”

  “Is that it?” Oskar says, his voice full of awe. “Is that your prostate?”

  Erik would reply... but he is kind of seeing stars.

  Then Oskar removes his fingers and Erik whinges like a baby. Squeals and begs and whimpers until Oskar is right there and there is something pressing against him and there it is. The pressure. Fuck. Shit.

  They weren’t kidding. It’s fucking weird and stretching his skin and the sting is unreal and, oh god, and his body is tensing up and his spine is arching, and Oskar’s hands are all over his back soothing him and please stop, yet fuck, please don’t stop, because oh god.

  Erik can’t even think. It’s just. Oh. Oh god.

  He can’t believe he is doing this.

  Maybe he should have made things clear.

  Maybe he should have asked Oskar to prepare him better.

  Maybe he should have said no.

  “CONDOM!” Oskar shrieks and pulls out.

  “GET THE FUCK BACK IN THERE!” Erik screams back.

  “Need a condom!” Oskar scrambles desperately across the bed, trying to rip open a box with his teeth.

  “FUCK THE CONDOM! You are already in there and we fucking won’t need them!”

  “I’m clear, I’m a fucking virgin,” Oskar squeals.

  “I give blood. I get tested every three months and I haven’t had sex f
or over a year. Get the hell back in there!” Erik screams.

  “Why are we shouting?” Oskar shouts.

  “You’re the fucking doctor, now fuck the hell out of me before I slam you down on this bed and fuck you instead.”

  “Bloody bossy, you guys upstairs,” Oskar snarls.

  And Erik just pouts and pushes his bum back up in the air. What the hell has gotten into him? Then he kind of loses his mind as Oskar pushes back in, his cock wet with more lube and it’s bloody amazing. Slick and hard and filling Erik up and he is shifting his legs and Oskar is gripping his hips and then he thrusts. Hard. Pulls back out and pushes back in.

  Erik’s not ready. He is nowhere near ready. It’s hard. It’s a little bit, Oh fuck. It hurts. A little. But it’s...

  Yes.

  There it is.

  Oh yes.

  And Oskar just can’t understand how he didn’t know. How he has gone for so long without this. This amazing thing that the world raves about.

  Sex. Because it’s fucking awesome.

  He tries to bend over to get to Erik’s lips, but he’s too fucking tall and Oskar is too bloody short and anatomy is a fucking awkward thing, because he can’t reach anything, however hard he tries to slam his hips against Erik’s arse and still get a grip on Erik’s cock which is coming back to life under the palm of his hand.

  So, he forces himself to pull out, and flips Erik over.

  Erik who is all lost. Completely gone. Eyes closed and panting, and his face is all red and his hands are shaking as Oskar pushes his legs up in the air.

  It’s undignified at its best, but Oskar needs this. He loves this. He needs this to be perfect. He doesn’t care if this is not following the rules. He doesn’t care if this is not the way it should be done. He just wants to love Erik the way Erik deserves to be loved, he thinks as he lines himself up and pushes back in.

  And it’s even better this way, he thinks as Erik is slowly pumping his cock between them and Oskar bends over and smashes his lips onto Erik’s mouth, and yes. This. Now. This is more like it.

  Oskar is moving with every thrust trying to get the angle right, his hands grabbing handfuls of Erik’s hair, his mouth licking and sucking and kissing and tasting and whilst his mind is getting smothered in fog.

  Because he can’t think anymore. The world just disappears. His vision is black. Black and ethereal and covered in stars.

  Because he comes. He comes with Erik shouting into his mouth and his hands spasming in a vice-like grip around the hair on Erik’s head, and he roars. Roars into thin air.

  There are a million things he needs to say. Yet he can’t say a thing.

  He just slumps over Erik’s body, whilst his softening cock slowly slides out of the man underneath him.

  “I can’t feel my legs anymore, they’re all pins and needles,” Erik mumbles as he lets his limbs fall back onto the bed.

  That. That was fucking unreal. Erik just pants. Totally out of breath. In awe. Oh hell.

  “I thought I was supposed to fuck you,” he whispers into Oskar’s ear, whilst his arms kind of come back to life and he wraps them around Oskar’s back.

  “Funny that,” Oskar whispers back. “I thought so too. Think I got a little bit carried away. I feel cheated now. You promised.”

  Erik just giggles. Wraps his arms tighter around the dead weight on top of him.

  “Give me a few minutes and I will rectify that,” he whispers into Oskar’s neck. And Oskar’s hands loosen their grip on his hair, the fingers softly twirling through the soft strands of hair.

  “We have the rest of our lives,” Oskar says softly. “But we are definitely doing this again.”

  “Hell yes,” Erik pants and pushes Oskar off him. “You weigh a bloody ton, baby.”

  Oskar just lies there on the bed, on his back with his arms out like a stick-insect snow angel again, as Erik gets up and rumbles around in the bathroom, bringing back a glass of tap water that Oskar gulps down in one go.

  “Need to go check on Naomi,” Oskar pants out, getting up. He’s not quite steady on his legs. Wobbling over to the bathroom.

  “I still have your dressing gown upstairs.” Erik laughs. “Sorry about that.”

  “S’okay. Got a new onesie to use now.” Oskar laughs and zips his bag open.

  “Love you in that onesie. Makes you all soft and snuggly.” Erik giggles and throws himself back on the bed.

  Oskar closes the door behind him with a soft click, zipping the onesie up over his stomach as he tiptoes down the corridor. The kitchen area is deserted, the table bathed in the soft light from the fairy lights in the window.

  “They have done as they were told,” he giggles to himself. The table is wiped clean, and the chairs stacked neatly as they were. There are voices coming from Carolina’s room, and laughter echoing softly through the corridor as Oskar pushes down Naomi’s door handle.

  He hopes she is asleep, letting herself rest.

  He hopes she will be better in the morning, back in her own surroundings. In her room full of calm and the books she loves and the inspirational quotes on her wall that she carefully pins to the wallpaper. Her body rested from a good night’s sleep.

  He moves quietly through the hallway, letting his head just glance around the corner, so as not to startle her should she be awake.

  The bedside light is still on, just the way she needs it to be. She can’t stand the dark. The dark brings the demons back in to her head. In the light things are more peaceful and calmer, she always says.

  She is still curled up in a ball, her back flush against the wall. Her breathing soft and steady, her hand held in Victor’s.

  He is lying next to her on the bed, his body angled around hers, like he is shielding her from the outside world.

  And Oskar thinks it’s beautiful. He shakes his head and smiles. He never used to be like this. All romantic and sappy and full of Christmas feelings and love and warmth.

  It’s only been a few weeks. A handful of days. Yet his life has been turned on its head. Changed irrevocably. Things will never be the same again, he knows that now. He will never step back, never again feel like his life is worthless.

  And he will try to be a better person. To see the people around him and maybe give something back instead of hiding. Because there are good people here. There are people who are kind. Giving and helpful.

  Oskar has always had the mindset that the world is against him. That people are mean and thoughtless, and that he just isn’t strong enough to be one of the people who matter.

  Yet now he thinks he has been wrong. Maybe he has mattered all along. Maybe it has just taken a stupid boy to fall in love with him to make him see it.

  He closes Naomi’s door carefully behind him and tiptoes back down the corridor to the safety of his own room. The warmth and the soft light from his own bedside table. The smells softly lingering in the air, scents of sweat and bodies, and he thinks sex. This is what sex smells like. Which makes his cock start to swell with just the thoughts and memories rushing through his mind.

  Because there he is. His Erik. On his back with his arms slung over his head. His mouth half open and his eyes closed as his little snores echo through the silence.

  His Erik. His man. His boyfriend. The boy who loves him and who Oskar loves more than anything in the whole world.

  He lets his onesie fall to the floor and digs around in his bag for his sleep clothes. It’s a little bit cold and Erik is sprawled on top of the duvet. All arms and legs and hair and gorgeousness.

  He needs his sleep. He needs to rest, because there are just so many things they need to do. Erik has a party to pull off. Oskar has his Genealogy paper to write.

  They have a box full of condoms and lube.

  And they have each other.

  And for the first time Oskar falls asleep thinking that things are looking pretty good. He is excited. Bring it on, he thinks. Bring on the party. Kisses at midnight with the sky full of fireworks. Bring on sleeping here wit
h Erik in his arms. Every fucking night. Bring on sex. Bring on new friends and new beginnings.

  Bring it on, Oskar thinks. Then he doesn’t think anymore.

  On New Year’s Eve, life is back to normal. Oskar is flat out in his bed watching Netflix, the pillow next to him empty and cold. He has spoken to his parents, exchanged the customary greetings and answered the obligatory questions with the appropriate answers.

  He’s a dick, he can freely admit that to himself. It’s just not his thing, and the very thought of going to the party of the year, that may have been the brainchild of his boyfriend, Oskar’s boyfriend, and the party that may have taken months to plan and that Erik may be really proud of, and everyone is there cheering him on at? Everyone is there.

  Apparently, everyone, except Oskar and Naomi, who appears in the doorway, quiet as a mouse.

  “Don’t you knock?” He tries to sound calm. Not that he minds. But hello? Rules? He is sure—pretty sure—that he closed his door.

  “Oh, pack it in, Oskar, it’s just me.” She huffs and plonks herself down at the end of the bed. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” He huffs and blows out a deep breath. “All fine. I just want to lie here and watch this...” He waves his hand at the screen in front of him. “Whatever it is.”

  “It’s okay not to do what everyone else does. You know that, don’t you? Just because Erik tells you to do something, it doesn’t mean you have to do what he says.” She looks concerned, and Oskar can’t help the laugh that comes out of his mouth.

  “Erik doesn’t tell me what to do. I’m my own person, and before you have a go at me, I’m not going to that shitty party.”

  She rolls her eyes at him and does that smile she does. Like she tries to tell him how ridiculous he is. He knows that he is ridiculous. All the time, it seems.

  “I’m going to make soup. Did you want some? We could light some candles and sit out in the common room for a bit?”