Not All Chocolate and Cuckoo Clocks

by Rebecca Cohen

  He supposed Steffen had a point. Mark wouldn’t ask him to support him financially, but maybe this was different. Perhaps he was naïve enough to believe this wasn’t how things worked, but he shouldn’t be too proud to let Steffen oil the gears a little.

  “Just don’t overdo it. There’s one thing people knowing we’re together, there’s another them thinking I’m your boy toy.”

  Steffen snorted. “Please, you are all of four years younger than me. If I were to get a boy toy, I would get one in his early twenties—you are far too old for that.”

  “It’s this sort of sweet-talking I’m going to miss the most. I’m not sure why I am bothering.”

  “Because I am great in bed and love you enough to put up with your strange English mannerisms.”

  “Oi!”

  “I will need to come up with an incentive scheme to improve your German and train you to speak properly.”

  Fuck, he was going to miss this man. Not just the physical aspects of sex and being cuddled, but the way their personalities clicked and their humor dovetailed. Life wasn’t fair, but at least he was still in the game. It might need to be a longer session, but they’d get there, and they would win.

  “I need to get going,” Mark said, not wanting to go.

  Steffen took the lift down with Mark’s bags to load up the car he had borrowed as Mark did one final sweep of the room and dropped his key back with reception. It might not have been the best place he’d ever stayed, but he would have fond memories of the little room and Steffen’s moaning about his circumstances, the ridiculous man having no idea what living in poor conditions really meant.

  Apart from the occasional taxi, Mark had barely traveled by car in Basel, and like the last time Steffen had driven him somewhere, he almost got in the wrong side, automatically going to the left as a passenger would for a British car. He grumbled under his breath and got in the right side. He tried to shake off his black mood, but despite Steffen doing his best to console him, Mark lapsed into a silent sulk.

  “Mark, please, we are both unhappy at this, but we have only a little time before I put you on a flight.”

  Steffen was right, and Mark knew he was being a selfish arse. “I’m sorry. Look, tell me what you’re doing this week. You must have something planned, you usually do.”

  “I always have appointments and invitations. Mostly I refuse them. But I think I will need to be entertained this week, and although I can easily fill more hours with work, it will not benefit either of us. I will attend Amelia’s gallery opening for one of her pet painters and see a friend who is celebrating a new job.”

  Mark was glad to hear it. He already thought Steffen worked too much, and he didn’t like the idea that both of them would be moping. He’d look up a couple of mates in Reading, see his family, but he knew initially he’d want to do little more than sulk. Hardly the most adult approach, and he knew he would get it in the neck from his sister. “You’re not to have too much fun without me.”

  Steffen chuckled as he pulled into a car parking space, choosing one as close to the terminal building as possible. “Do not worry, I will behave myself. You should be more concerned that my mother wants to arrange a big family dinner during one of your visits.”

  “At least she likes me,” he said.

  “Small mercies. If she had not, I would not have heard the last of it.”

  “Mums are the same the world over. My sister opened her big mouth, so now my mum is hassling me for information about you by email.” Mark knew it was only a matter of time before he told all, but for now he wanted to be a bit selfish about Steffen. He didn’t want to share him yet, but would have to at least tell them his plans. “I daresay I’ll let her know you’re not so bad.”

  “I will not hide you from the rest of the family for long. You will have to meet my father and siblings, but not on your next visit, as I doubt I will let you out of bed for the duration. But you will not escape the dinner.”

  “I’m sure you can find a way to put it off a little longer.”

  “You have met my mother. If you believe I am capable of misdirecting her, you overestimate my talents.”

  The drive to the airport had been too short for his liking, and Mark couldn’t sit here any longer. He needed to drop his bags and then get through security in order not to miss his flight. “You don’t need to come in.”

  “If you think I will drop you here and leave, you are mistaken.”

  “The parking will cost a fortune.”

  Steffen unbuckled his seat belt. “I think I can cover it. Come on.”

  Mark was glad Steffen had insisted. He’d made the offer, but he hadn’t wanted Steffen to leave him and drive off without a backward glance. “If you insist.”

  The bag drop area for British Airways was busy, but he’d seen worse at other airports. At least his company had thought to book him a business-class seat, meaning he’d have no issue with his luggage, and he intended to hit the free booze as hard as the cabin crew would let him.

  Bags dropped, they walked in silence to the escalator that led to security, but stopped at the bottom. Steffen pulled him close. “Call me when you land.”

  Mark kissed him hard, trying to convey in one kiss his love and regret that he had to leave. “I love you.”

  “And me you. It is not forever, and I will see you soon, even though it will feel like an age. We will get through this. Tag für Tag. Day by day.”

  They shared another kiss, and Mark stepped away. “See you soon.”

  With a quick final kiss, he pulled his rucksack onto his shoulder and rode the escalator, leaving Steffen behind. Steffen was right, it wasn’t forever, and Mark would do everything in his power to get back to Basel and Steffen as soon as physically possible.

  Chapter Seventeen

  TO BE fair to Reading, Steffen’s reasons to hate it had more to do with the situation than the town itself, but it didn’t stop Steffen’s antagonism toward it. His flight had been delayed, and he ended up stuck sitting on the runway at Basel. His phone died with no way to plug in his charger, and he’d forgotten his portable battery pack. At least he’d had the chance to convince Mark he would make his own way to his apartment rather than having Mark come to meet him at the airport. Both of them didn’t have to suffer.

  He knew his way by now, this being his third visit, but the late landing and tiredness made him balk at putting his life into the hands of the British railway system. He decided to say fuck it and get a taxi from Heathrow Airport straight to Mark’s. If he hadn’t already decided on that plan of action, the ridiculously long queue at passport control would have sealed the deal. At least the M4 motorway was clear, and although he had no way of letting Mark know his expected arrival time, he had to admit he enjoyed the absence of the incessant buzz of his Handy—it was rare for him to be completely unplugged from the rest of the world.

  Less than an hour from leaving the airport, the cab pulled up in front of Mark’s apartment block. He grabbed his bag, paid, and used the key Mark had given him to let himself into the building. The block didn’t have a lift, but despite being tired and having suffered through a long day, the thought of getting to Mark gave him the energy to power up the stairs. Mark’s apartment wasn’t bad, but Steffen couldn’t help but make an unfavorable comparison to his own luxurious home, and the fact he wanted nothing more than for Mark to be back in Basel living with him didn’t help.

  Steffen called out as he unlocked the door, “Mark!”

  His bag had barely hit the ground when he found himself with an armful of Mark and being kissed within an inch of his life. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  Being pinned against Mark’s front door should have been uncomfortable, but Steffen couldn’t be happier. “I am only delayed by a couple of hours. I am sure you would have survived.”

  Mark kissed him soundly one more time and pulled back, grinning. “I heard from Kaz.”

  “And?” It had to be good news, the way Mark’s smile l
it up the room.

  “They’ve secured my B permit from Basel Stadt and finally given me a start date. Three months’ time, and I’ll be with you in Basel.”

  Steffen had to remind himself that it had only been three months since Mark had returned to the UK. At times it had felt so much longer. Rationally he’d known it would happen eventually; they’d survived the separation with visits every two weeks and being inventive over Skype. Some couples had it much worse, but all that mattered now was they could finally start making plans for the future. Stop living in a limbo, waiting to hear. “Oh, Mark, that is the best thing I have ever heard.”

  “Better than I’ve just changed the bedclothes and I want you to help me get them dirty?”

  God, he loved this man. Steffen grabbed Mark’s hand and pulled him along to the bedroom. All thoughts of the small size of Mark’s home evaporated as they landed together on the bed, and Mark peeled away Steffen’s mac. Steffen couldn’t wait to get his hands on Mark’s skin and was especially happy to see Mark was dressed only in his pajamas, which gave Steffen the easy access he craved. Two weeks without being able to touch Mark left Steffen with little willpower. He pulled at Mark’s T-shirt, not caring at the strain he was putting on the seams. Mark was just as eager, and Steffen had to bat his hands away to stop Mark tugging at his buttons. He didn’t want a repeat of his last visit, where three buttons of an expensive Saint Laurent shirt had been sent flying.

  He bit and licked his way down Mark’s torso as Mark lay gloriously naked in front of him, stretched out across the duvet. The scent of Mark’s spicy shower gel lingered as he nuzzled into Mark’s wiry pubic hair, and the taste was 100 percent Mark as he took Mark’s hard cock into his mouth.

  Mark tugged on his hair, and Steffen pulled away, confused. “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’ve been fantasizing all week about sixty-nineing since our last Skype session.”

  Fuck, he wasn’t going to turn down that offer. Steffen scooted back so Mark could shuffle into the center of the bed, reoriented himself so he knelt with a knee on either side of Mark’s head, and then bent over to continue where he started. Mark’s hands slid up his thighs and rested on his buttocks. Steffen shivered as Mark swallowed his cock whole while lightly stroking a finger down the cleft of his buttocks.

  It was never the most comfortable position, and getting the balance right, and the angle, was always a tricky act. Steffen had to readjust to make sure he could give Mark the best experience. He’d forgotten how intense this could be. Having Mark in his mouth while simultaneously being sucked with an equal fervor made his body hum with anticipation, the thrill of his climax building with every mutual suck and lick. Mark was a master with his tongue, and when Mark’s fingers danced playfully around his hole, it made it nigh on impossible for Steffen to control himself.

  He came hard as Mark hummed, and received the salty tang of Mark’s release as reward. His blood rushed in his ears, and his head spun with desire, the happiness mingling with the lust and endorphins, making his head wonderfully dizzy.

  It took a moment for him to catch his breath and for them to rearrange themselves and get under the blankets. Mark cuddled close, and Steffen wrapped his arms around him. Even without Mark’s good news, this was in line with the pattern they’d settled into as they reacquainted themselves with each other. Kiss. Fuck. Cuddle. Talk. So far it hadn’t been more than two weeks between seeing each other, but there had been moments, at least for Steffen, when it had seemed much longer.

  “Come on, tell me how it happened,” Steffen asked.

  Mark lazily traced patterns across Steffen’s chest. “I got called into a meeting with HR this morning. Kaz and Phil, my UK boss, were also invited. They said everything was now confirmed. I got the contract with my Swiss salary and conditions and start date for when I officially transferred. All the Swiss permit paperwork is either done or only the last technicalities are still open. To be honest, given we’ve been waiting for this, it seems so anticlimactic.”

  “You can stay here if you would prefer,” Steffen said with a playful squeeze, but he could understand what Mark meant.

  “No chance. You’re stuck with me now. Somebody’s gotta help me adjust to living in Switzerland.”

  “I should let you work it out yourself—it would give you an incentive to improve your German.”

  “Then you’d have to visit me in my new home under Dreirosenbrücke, when I can’t get anywhere thanks to the bureaucracy.”

  “You can consider yourself lucky that, unlike most of Basel’s new arrivals, you will not need to play the finding an apartment game—I might not even insist on seeing your references or financial records.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.”

  Steffen had grown accustomed to hearing Mark use that phrase, along with his tendency to overthink things, as part of his desire for everything to run smoothly. “I hope it was not too painful for you.”

  “I’m being serious. Are you absolutely sure I should be moving in with you straightaway? I’m going to get some relocation assistance. I could—at least at first—find my own place. I don’t want you to think we’ve rushed into this.”

  Mark was an idiot, but he was Steffen’s idiot. Steffen was going to put a stop to this idea before it took hold. “Mark, you are moving into the apartment. If this relationship had not been worth fighting for we would not have been flying out to see each other at every opportunity. We both have insanely busy jobs, and I fear if we do not crawl into the same bed every night, we will never see each other.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  Steffen moved so he lay facing Mark. “If you want to find somewhere else to live, then I will help you. But do not make it sound that it’s because of me. I love you and want to live with you.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Mark rushed to answer. “Of course I want to live with you.”

  “Good. We have enough rooms if you want to have somewhere as your own space. But I think we will have to discuss the house rules, because I am not sure you will agree to my suggestion that you should be naked at all times when we do not have visitors.”

  “As if you can enforce that.” Mark smiled, and the worry around his eyes had gone.

  Steffen still wasn’t convinced this was the end of the discussion and thought there might be something else behind it. “You need to tell me if you have concerns. I cannot begin to help if I do not know what they are. Did something happen to start you thinking about the apartment?”

  “I spoke to my mum earlier, to let her know and confirm the details for tomorrow.”

  Steffen pursed his lips. Mark had mentioned his mother’s reservations, and Steffen could hardly say he was surprised she wasn’t so happy to have her son move to another country. “She is still worried?”

  “The same. She’s not said anything too negative, but there’s been a few comments about how long we’ve been together, whether I should move in with you or if I should have my own place in case something happens.” Mark sighed. “I’m sure she’ll get over it.”

  Steffen had happily agreed to meet Mark’s parents, but now it was even more important he made a good impression. “I will be my most charming tomorrow.”

  “Just don’t be an arse. I know it’s a challenge, but I think you’re up for it.”

  Steffen lunged forward and unleashed his most unrepentant tickle attack. “You will pay for that, Timmel!”

  THE LONDON Street Brassiere was the type of white-tablecloth restaurant that Steffen would frequent for both business and pleasure. The first glance at the menu and wine list as they waited for Mark’s parents to arrive impressed him. “I must admit I was not expecting somewhere of this caliber.”

  “My dad developed a taste for fine dining when he was working, and Mum was happy to tag along. They like it in here—I think they might consider it as home turf, yet still able to show off a bit.”

  “I intend to pick up the bill—will that be an issue?”

&nbs
p; “Not sure. Depends how the meal goes.” Mark leaned over and pointed to one of the wines. “That’s Dad’s favorite.”

  “Then we will order a bottle to come after the aperitifs. I’m in the mood for a Kir Royale.”

  He was trying to decide between the guinea fowl and the pork belly when Mark nudged him. “They’re here—finally.”

  Steffen glanced up and spotted Mark’s parents immediately. Even without them being pointed out, they were unmistakably Mark’s relatives. Mark had his mother’s coloring and his father’s build. Steffen was glad he had made enough of an effort with his clothes choices to look good but had not overdressed in a suit. He’d never really been too bothered about impressing a boyfriend’s parents before. Peter’s mother and father had been pleasant enough but hardly enthusiastic, but then he hadn’t had to make an impression before—the Gryse name had done much of the talking.

  Steffen got to his feet as the Timmels approached the table. “Mr. and Mrs. Timmel,” he said, extending his hand to Mark’s father. “It is my pleasure to meet you.”

  They shook hands, Mark’s mum speaking first. “It’s Diana and Liam. I’m glad to finally meet the man who’s swept Mark off his feet.”

  “The sweeping has been entirely mutual.”

  They sat down, and a waiter appeared as if by magic and took orders for aperitifs, Kir Royales all round, and Steffen ordered the wine.

  “What are the restaurants like in Basel?” asked Diana.

  Steffen appreciated her attempt to get the conversation started. “I have a number of favorite ones, although I have a lot more I will not go back to.”

  “Yeah, well, some of them are really expensive for what you get,” said Mark. “I’m glad I had Steffen to show me around. I’d have probably lived off sandwiches and chocolate if it weren’t for him.”

  Diana tutted. “I taught you better than that, Mark.”