Last Winter's Snow

by Hans M Hirschi

  Stockholm was the gay promised land. Every queer in Sweden turned wide-eyed upon their arrival in this majestic city that connected the Baltic Sea with Lake Malar, combining sweet and salt in an exquisite combination unlike any other city in the Nordics. It had been no different for Nilas.

  Still, as he stood by the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention, he was impressed that there were places like this: bars open every day of the week. Heck, they didn’t even have a café back home, and whatever water hole they had was only open during tourist season. Here, they even had bars catering for the likes of him, Christopher’s kind.

  Sam, the bartender, smiled at him, recognizing one of his regulars, and asked him if it’d be the usual.

  “Yes, a large beer, please!”

  Beer in hand, Nilas proceeded farther into the bar to find a place to sit or a familiar face, but the bar was oddly empty this time of day. Well, maybe traffic will pick up soon, Nilas thought and sat at one of the tables overlooking the street. At least this way, he would be able to follow what was going on outside.

  His attention was focused on the whitish foam on top of his glass, while he nursed thoughts about the lecture he’d attended today. As part of their engineering curriculum, the students were also encouraged to study a humanistic subject of their choice, and Nilas had chosen a series of seminars about philosophy. Today’s lecture had been particularly interesting, as the professor had introduced them to the work of Danish philosopher Kierkegaard and his existentialism.

  It resonated strangely with Nilas, who pondered the path in life he’d chosen and what he’d do, given that he firmly rejected any notion of the Christian god in his life, which, according to Kierkegaard, would be man’s final stage in life, to live in accordance with the laws of the Christian god.

  It made him think about his family’s beliefs. The traditional gods of the Sami were closely tied to every aspect of their life, ruling over the heavens, mountains, waters, and forests. When the Swedes had conquered the land, they had all been forced into accepting the Christian faith. They had all been baptized, or, at least, they’d kept up the pretense. Behind the backs of the Swedes, many Sami continued to pray to their own gods and sacrificed to them, as they always had, although animal sacrifices had ceased.

  Nilas knew that his father and many of his relatives would never walk by an ancient sacrificial place without leaving a gift for the gods. They respected them too much. Being young and rebellious, Nilas had questioned those beliefs at times—not only the faith forced upon them by the Swedish colonists and rulers, but also his own people’s. Kierkegaard wouldn’t have been pleased. At all.

  “Hey! Is this seat taken?” Nilas was startled by the question that suddenly woke him from his philosophical reveries. He looked up to see a young man standing there, tall and slim in stature, with shoulder-length, straight, rye-blond hair, bright-green eyes, and a beautiful, dimpled smile. He looked expectantly at Nilas.

  “No, go ahead. Have a seat,” Nilas responded almost automatically, intrigued why this stranger would want to sit next to him when he could’ve chosen any other empty table in the bar. How very un-Swedish.

  The guy stretched out his hand. “Hi, I’m Casper. You looked lonely. I figured you might want some company.”

  * * * * *

  How Did You Sleep?

  “Good morning, Casper.” Nilas woke him by gently kissing his forehead. The man stirred in his sleep, opened his mouth, yawned, and stretched his body in the far too narrow single bed in Nilas’s tiny dorm room. “How did you sleep?” Nilas knew the answer already. Casper had been out like a light the minute after they had finished making love to each other and cleaned up. By then, it was already two or three in the morning, and while it was nice to finally be holding someone, to feel someone’s warm body next to his, sleep had eluded Nilas. He’d simply listened to Casper’s deep, calm breathing as he held him tightly.

  There was never any doubt that Casper would stay and spend the night. They had been talking for hours at the bar, completely shutting out the rest of the world—guests walking into the bar, chatting, drinking, leaving again. They’d talked about everything, from how and where they had grown up to their families, their schools, what brought them to Stockholm, how and when they had realized they were gay, and on to politics, entertainment, and everything in between. They’d disappeared into a bubble that was just for the two of them. No one else fit in.

  When Sam approached their table to tell them he was about to close up, they were still nursing that first beer, having barely touched it. They left the bar and returned to Nilas’s dorm to continue their conversation. Nilas’s room was a tiny square with space for a bed, a cupboard, and a desk under the window looking out over the inner courtyard. It was connected through a corridor to a small shared bathroom with a shower, toilet, and sink. On the other side, another student had his bedroom. There was a communal kitchen on the floor, shared by all students. There was only the bed and the one chair at the desk to sit on, and Casper had almost instantly plopped down on the bed, a grin on his face.

  “Have you ever been with another man? I mean, sexually?”

  Nilas shook his head. “I haven’t even kissed a guy yet.” He felt his ears burn as the embarrassment of his virginity became painfully obvious. “But I’d like to…” Nilas lowered his gaze and stared at the floor, afraid he may have said the wrong thing.

  When he felt Casper’s hand under his chin, gently tilting his head upward, Nilas found himself looking straight into Casper’s eyes, those bright-green orbs outlined by his beautiful blond hair. The first kiss was tentative, just a brush of lips, really, but the intensity of the emotion rushing through Nilas was something he’d never experienced before. It caught him by surprise.

  Casper quickly returned for more, and Nilas felt Casper’s lips parting, his tongue gently probing the seal of his own lips. Without resistance, he parted them and welcomed Casper. That second kiss seemed to last forever; it felt to Nilas as if time itself had stopped. Two young men, discovering each other for the first time, holding on to each other, connected by the power of those first kisses.

  “So,” Casper continued after a long while, “I would really like to get to know you better…” His last words trailed, and Nilas was unsure what he meant, exactly. But he didn’t have to worry for very long, as Casper began to unbutton Nilas’s shirt, slowly, meticulously, from the top to the bottom. From within, Nilas felt a heat rise, and his cock sprang to life, straining against the confines of his close-fitting jeans. Casper gently pulled at the shirt, completely pulling it out of Nilas’s jeans, exposing his lightly tanned torso.

  The chill of the cool air from the room hit Nilas’s skin, making for the oddest sensation, as he was all hot inside, barely able to contain his excitement. He began to shake uncontrollably.

  “Are you cold?” Casper asked.

  “No. At least, I don’t think so,” Nilas stuttered, shivering like a leaf.

  Casper laughed, quickly undressing himself. “I think you’re just horny, s’all. Sometimes, when your body is overexcited, it begins to shiver. Take off your pants and get into bed. I’ll take care of you!” With that, Casper pulled off his socks and his pale-blue briefs and jumped naked into Nilas’s bed, covering himself with the sheet and blanket. Nilas could barely move, but managed to get his clothes off and joined Casper in bed.

  “You have cold feet!” Casper complained, half laughing, half mocking Nilas. “But the rest of you is nice and warm.” Casper climbed on top of Nilas, their bodies grinding together, as they began exploring each other with their hands, almost always looking into each other’s eyes. Nilas could’ve spent the rest of his life just looking at Casper and those beautiful emerald-green eyes.

  “What?” Casper asked after a while. “Don’t you like what you see?”

  “Quite the contrary,” Nilas whispered, and planted a kiss on Casper’s lips.

  Slowly, almost systematically, yet tentatively, they explored each other.
Apparently, Casper had been with other men before, but had never really gone beyond masturbation and getting a blow job, once, at a nightclub. They talked about the joys of sex, the different things they could do, things they might enjoy.

  “Have you ever, like fucked, or been fucked?” Nilas murmured quietly, scared to ask, unsure of the consequences the answer might imply.

  “No, I have not. I mean, I’ve seen a porn movie once, in the darkroom at one of the clubs, but until today, I’ve never really felt like trying it. Why, would you like to?”

  Under him, Nilas shrugged, while he felt Casper harden even more. “I don’t know. I guess… But I don’t even know if I can. Or if I’d like it…”

  Casper kissed him again. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “But how? And who goes first? I don’t even know how. I mean, the ass hole isn’t made for things to go in, is it?”

  Casper laughed out loud before responding, “From what I saw in that porn movie, they use some sort of lubrication, spit or grease, and they loosen up the ass with fingers first. First one, then two or three, always applying some lube.”

  Nilas wasn’t convinced. “But what about, you know…”

  “Poop? I guess one just has to go to the bathroom first? Make sure you’re empty? I don’t know. They don’t ever seem to have a problem with that in porn movies.”

  Nilas’s erection waned, causing Casper to worry. “We don’t have to do anything like that today, or ever. Not unless you want to. Sex is supposed to be fun, enjoyable. Okay?” He kissed Nilas, not just on the lips, but all over his face, and rolled off him, propping himself on his elbow, and putting his arm over Nilas’s abdomen.

  “I guess I’d like to try, but not now, not today. Are you mad? Are you disappointed?” Nilas was almost afraid of the answer.

  “No.” Casper shook his head. “Not at all. Like I said, I haven’t tried this, either, and while I’d like to, we have all the time in the world. It looks really enjoyable in the movies, but yeah, I’m not sure if I’d want that huge dick of yours trying to get in…” He laughed and kissed Nilas again, fondling his dick until he got the desired response.

  “Well, maybe you can fuck me first, then?” Nilas suggested before they dropped this particular subject for the night, instead focusing on exploring other aspects of their sexuality.

  Nilas had to smile at the memories of the night before, and his morning wood was as hard as it had ever been. A quick check of Casper showed him to be in the same predicament. Nilas gently took Casper’s dick in his hand and began stroking it, eliciting the faintest sighs from the man’s lips. It didn’t take long until Casper bucked under Nilas’s ministrations and shot his load into the sheets and Nilas’s hand. “Sorry, I, uh, I tend to come quickly, and your hands… I mean, uh, you’re really good.” Casper blushed.

  “Eh, don’t worry. I can wash those. Good morning!”

  “Good morning to you, mind if I return the favor?” Casper smiled, got up, threw away the sheets and blanket, and went down on Nilas’s erection.

  ***

  After getting showered and dressed, the two men headed out into the communal kitchen to have some breakfast. It was a Saturday, and the place was deserted. Most students had probably been out partying the night before and were still asleep.

  “Coffee or tea?” Nilas asked, suddenly overcome by the amazing sensation of comfort from this question of domesticity. His imagination momentarily whisked him away on a journey where he and Casper sat at the kitchen table every morning, drinking tea, having breakfast, and reading the morning paper.

  If only that were a possibility for a gay couple. Nilas didn’t know of any gays living together, but the prospect of living the way his parents and grandparents had their entire adult lives was compelling. Yet the realization of just how impossible or unlikely this all was brought him back to the harsh reality and the cold temperature of the kitchen.

  “Are you okay?” Casper stood next to him, an arm around the small of Nilas’s back. “For a second, you seemed to be a million miles away.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a daydream… Now, what can I get you?”

  “Coffee, if you have any?”

  “I think we do. I normally drink tea. Let me see what’s around.” Nilas began to root in the cupboards, looking for coffee to make for Casper. Finally, he found a pack and set up a coffee pot with cold water, added the coarsely ground coffee to it, making sure, through reassuring eye contact with Casper, that he’d used enough coffee, and put on a separate little electric kettle for his tea water.

  “How come you drink tea?” Casper asked. “Is that common in Lapland?”

  Nilas shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. My parents are both coffee drinkers, but I guess I just never took to the taste of it. I prefer my Yellow Label…”

  “So, what do you eat for breakfast?” Casper’s voice had a teasing yet curious tone.

  “Porridge, sometimes, but usually just some bread with sandwich caviar or soft whey butter. Back home, we usually also eat a lot of reindeer meat, either air dried or smoked, but I don’t think you can get that here. What about you?”

  “Wow, that’s a wholesome breakfast, right there. Me? I don’t eat much. I’d rather spend the extra time in bed. Coffee is usually all I have for breakfast. Is that a problem?”

  “Even on weekends, or when you’re at home?”

  “It depends. I live in a dorm, just like you, and I don’t usually get up that early. I’d rather have my brunch or dinner. But yeah, my mom always makes sure I eat a real breakfast at home. I’m not a big porridge fan, so I usually settle for cornflakes or bread with cheese or jam—to get her off my case more than because I’m hungry. If I had a choice, I’d much rather just drink coffee. So, tell me, would that be a problem?”

  “A problem? Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. I was just wondering what it would be like to wake up next to you more often?”

  Nilas was stunned. Had Casper had the same thought? What if they both felt the same? What if they both wanted to live the impossible dream? Would it be possible? He’d seen gay couples out at the clubs or in the bars, mostly women, but some guys, too. But did they also live together or were they simply content in spending some of their free time together and living separately?

  “Nilas? You’re drifting again.” Casper had a concerned look on his face. “Don’t you like me?”

  That last sentence tore through Nilas, who felt quite the opposite, but didn’t dare say so. “No, I mean yes, I do like you. And no, it’s not a problem if you don’t eat breakfast. Do you mind if I do?” The smile on Casper’s face was all the answer he needed.

  On the stove, the coffee was about to boil, and Nilas turned down the heat. He knew from his mom that cooking coffee, a bit of a Swedish specialty, needed to simmer for a while but not boil, or it would become really bitter. Next to the stove, the tea kettle had whistled and turned itself off, and Nilas poured the hot liquid over the bag which was already waiting inside his favorite mug. He added a couple of teaspoons of sugar and a spritz from a plastic lemon filled with the sour fruit’s pale juice.

  “Are you going to make porridge?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Not if you’re not eating. I’ll just have some crispbread. I haven’t been grocery shopping yet.”

  “You’re not doing that because of me, are you? I wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life without a proper breakfast.”

  Nilas didn’t respond. The sound of Casper’s last words were echoing through his entire body. A life, together?

  * * * * *

  Building A Nest

  Over the coming weeks, Nilas and Casper spent virtually every free minute with each other, so much so that Nilas’s studies began to suffer, forcing him to pull back a bit, to focus on his upcoming finals.

  “Is Nilas Jonsson in?” Casper had called him on the phone to the dorm’s floor, as he had no phone of his own. The student who’d answered the phone in the k
itchen scurried down the corridor to see if Nilas was home or not.

  “Nilas? There’s a phone call for you…” She knocked on his door as she spoke the words, loud enough for Nilas to hear them if he was in his room.

  The answer came promptly—“I’m coming. Who’s calling?”—before she heard the footsteps approach the door. Nilas emerged, hair tousled, wearing a brown-white-patterned woolen sweater and a pair of jeans.

  The girl shrugged. “He didn’t say. Sounded youngish, though.”

  “Thanks!” Nilas ran ahead of the girl back to the kitchen. “Nilas Jonsson here! Who’s this?”

  “Take a guess.” Casper laughed on the other end of the line. “What are you doing tonight? Wanna go for a walk? Catch a movie? It’s the last weekend before Christmas, and I don’t want to go home without seeing you at least one more time.” There was a pleading edge to his voice.

  “Of course I want to see you. My train’s not until Sunday afternoon, anyway. I’m on the night train to Vindeln. When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow. I couldn’t get tickets for the Sunday train. I guess there are too many people traveling then, since all the schools are out for the year. So, see you at Sergel’s square at seven?”

  “What do you want to watch?”

  “I was thinking we could see the new Spielberg movie that opened last week, E.T.? It’s sort of a science fiction movie. I hear it’s pretty good.”

  “Fine with me. As long as I’m with you…” Nilas smiled, and a warmth spread throughout his body.

  ***

  After the movie, they didn’t feel like going out to one of the bars. Instead, they decided to go for a walk, heading south, to the old town of Stockholm, sitting on its own little island in the sea. After a long period without speaking, during which Nilas got the impression that something was amiss with Casper, the latter finally broke the silence.