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Everything looked like Kili remembered. He hadn’t been here in years, not since his father had died, to be precise, but the small holiday homes at the beach and further inland looked exactly the same. The only thing that seemed to have changed during the last seven years were the cars.
They had come here as long as he could remember. Every year his parents would book a small holiday home here in Denmark at the Baltic Sea, always the same time of year, always making sure they would spend their wedding day where they had spent their honeymoon.
After his father had died, his mother had been too heartbroken to ever return. But this year, Kili and his cousin Gimli had decided to walk down memory lane and had booked one of the small holiday cottages. Gimli and his family had often accompanied them, had had a holiday home somewhere in the neighbourhood and Kili and Gimli had had the time of their life playing at the beach building sandcastles and later, secretly drinking beer smuggled out of the house in pockets.
So here they were, after crossing the North Sea with the ferry and driving from west coast to east coast, the resort where Kili had spent a lot of happy weeks during his childhood.
Their house was a little cottage close to the sea, and you could hear the waves when sitting on the patio. It had two bedrooms, a small but well equipped kitchen, a living room with a TV and a stereo and a garden hidden behind high hedges. Kili wasn’t sure; he might have been in this exact cottage before, but the years kind of blurred when he thought back.
Well, apart from the last time he had been here, seven years ago, shortly before his father had died. Those had been some memorable weeks. Kili smiled wistfully to himself as he loaded the beer into the fridge. Sometimes he wondered if the young Dane he had met back then still remembered him every now and then or if he had forgotten him. Probably the latter. What were three weeks of a holiday romance in the face of seven subsequent years?
After they had unpacked their stuff they got into the car again to find themselves something to eat. Having spent so many hours driving they were both too beat to start cooking.
The town closest to the resort looked almost identical as well, but the pizza place Kili remembered didn’t exist anymore. The house was still there, but there was a shop selling phones and MP3 players and the like.
Lucky for them most Danes spoke a quite passable English so they could ask around until they found another place that still had open at this hour. They got their orders, wrapped the boxes in a towel and headed back to their cottage.
The night was mild and warm and windless so they decided to eat their pizza down at the beach.
The moon was mirrored in the calm waters, the sound of the waves was hardly more than a gentle rush on the sand and the air smelled of salt and seaweed. And it was so quiet. The waves were in fact the only sound, and Kili closed his eyes. Memories washed over him like a flood.
Digging his bare feet into the cool, hard baked sand, Kili stared out over the calm waves and at the island far away. Strangely enough out here, he was no longer bored. So maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
The problem was not being bored and not being frustrated and angry led to him starting to think again and that wasn’t something he liked doing. Not now. Not after what had happened, even if it was already half a year ago. There was a reason he had kept his mind as busy and distracted as he could.
They had so often joked about him being the best gay best friend a girl could have and he still missed her. They had also talked about of coming here together at one point, but then a drunk driver had destroyed all their plans for the future. He still missed her. And it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she hadn’t even lived only half a life. She had wanted to study medicine and she would have been a great doctor. But that would never happen now.
“You would’ve liked it here, he said to the memory of his friend. “I’m sure you would have. No, definitely. You’d have liked it here.” Tears were burning in his eyes and he angrily wiped them away. “Fuck, why aren’t you here? Why aren’t you here with me making stupid jokes? Why do you have to be buried and gone forever? Why?” He dropped his head and the tears were just impossible to rein in. “WHY!”
“Er du okay?”
Kili flinched and spun around to look at a guy roughly his own age or maybe a bit older. He had what seemed to be blonde hair, but it might have also been red, it was hard to tell since it was dark out here at the beach at night with no artificial light. He hastily wiped a hand across his face.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Hm.” The young Dane cocked his head. “I’m sorry,” he said almost without an accent. “But I heard you scream and I was worried.”
“Yeah...” Kili shrugged. “It’s... it’s nothing.”
“Hm.”
It didn’t sound very convinced, but Kili’s pain wasn’t his business so he turned around again and stared at the water.
“Okay, then... bye.” And then he yelled: “Odin, for pokker, du bliver væk fra vandet! Her!”
Kili blinked in confusion and then a dark shadow shot past him at roughly knee-height. At that moment the dog spun around and sniffed Kili’s legs, tail wagging like crazy.
“Hey there, buddy.” Kili patted the dog’s head and found he could smile again. “Having a nice evening walk with your dad?”
The dog panted and attempted to lick his fingers.
“Odin...” The young Dane smiled and patted his leg. “ Her. Lad ham være”
The dog snuffed out an indignant snort and toddled off.
“Sorry, he can be a bit wild. He loves people.”
“I can see that,” Kili replied with a smile. “He’s nice, though.”
“He’s crazy.”
Kili chuckled. “What kind of dog is he?”
“I have no idea,” the Dane replied. “A bit of everything, I think. We got him from... ah... where animals go when they don’t have a home?”
“A shelter.”
“Right.” He grinned somewhat self-consciously. “Some words are difficult to remember.”
“Hey, your English is tons better than my Danish.”
They both had to laugh at that and the dog took it as an invitation to join the party again.
“I’m Philip,” the Dane said and extended his hand. “My friends call me Fili, though.”
“Yeah, that’s also tons better than mine. We’re from Ireland and my parents decided that I should be called as Irish as possible. Kieran Liam O’Durin. My friends call me Kili.”
Both became aware that their nicknames were a matching set. Kili’s last words were followed by a small, pregnant pause.
“So,” Fili said while scratching Odin’s head. “You’re here on holiday?”
Kili nodded. “We come here every year...” His voice caught and he turned away again.
“You okay?”
“No. But...”
Another moment of silence passed.
Fili cleared his throat. “Okay... I need to get back. Was nice meeting you. Maybe we meet again?”
“Maybe.” Kili managed a smile. “See ya.”
Kili watched him and the dog disappear into the darkness of an unlit path leading back to the holiday homes.
“Ground control to Major Tom?”
Kili shook his head like a wet dog. “Shit... sorry.”
“Where have you been just now?” Gimli shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth.
“Just exactly here, but seven years back,” Kili replied.
“Hm.” Gimli chewed for a moment and then leaned back. “The Danish guy?”
“Am I that bloody obvious?”
“You had a pretty big crush on him and it would’ve surprised me if you had not thought of him.”
Kili pulled up his knees and slung his arms around them.
“Hey, you gonna eat that? Cold pizza is nasty...”
Kili had to grin. “Go ahead. I’m stuffed.”
Gimli helped himself to the rest of Kili’s pizza and Kili stared straight ahead at the sea.
“Odin! For pokker da! ”
Kili, brown paper bag with the rolls for breakfast in his hand could just about lift that hand before a dog nose collided with it.
“I am so sorry!”
Kili looked up and smiled.
“Odin!” Fili snapped at the dog.
Odin whined and crouched down. Now in daylight, Kili could see why he had that name: He only had one eye. Then he looked up and his breath caught in his throat.
Fili was wearing shorts and a tank top, and his hair wasn’t blonde, it was golden, and his eyes... shit. Shit shit shit... he was fucking gorgeous. And with Kili’s luck, the straightest guy in town.
“Hey,” Fili said as he took a hold of Odin’s collar. “Sorry about that.”
Kili swallowed and managed a grin. “No worries. Nothing happened. But maybe you should put him on a leash.”
“I just wanted to do that, and he ran away.”
“Sneaky bugger.”
“Just badly behaved. We haven’t had him for long, he still needs training.”
Kili looked up again and their eyes met.
“Uh,” Fili said after a moment while clipping the leash to Odin’s collar. “I was about to buy rundstykker too, we could go back together?”
“Sure,” Kili said and accepted the offered leash. “Behave yourself,” he said to the dog. Odin wagged his tail.
They walked back together, a walk of about fifteen minutes, and the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Odin was running to and fro, sniffing at every tree, bush, stone and pebble.
On their way, Fili told him about Odin, and how he had been rescued from abuse and neglect, having been chained in a backyard for most of his life. That explained his joy of being able to run and Kili had to smile even more. If only humans could get over their pain as easy as animals.
“Pain?” Fili asked and Kili realised he had spoken that out loud.
“Nothing.” Kili bit his lip.
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
They continued their way in silence and made their farewell at a crossroad where they parted ways.
They had met again that night at the beach, and Fili had had a few cans of beer in his backpack. He had quite obviously expected to meet Kili here, or hoped he would, and they had shared the beer in companionable silence.
Until Kili had suddenly blurted out how he had quite recently lost his best friend in a car accident.
Odin had stopped frolicking and had crawled over, licking Kili’s hands with a whine, and Kili had slung his arms around the dog and had closed his eyes. Fili had just sat there in silence until it had all burst out of him, the pain and the anger and the fury and the frustration at the unfairness of it all.
Odin had licked his chin in a vain gesture of comfort. Fili had said nothing and, after Kili had calmed down, offered him another beer.
They had met every night after that. They had taken long walks up and down the beach and thrown sticks for Odin.
When and how it had happened Kili still couldn’t quite say, but at one point they had sat on a large rock of a mole and their hands had brushed. They had looked at each other for another moment before Fili had leaned forward. Kili had closed his eyes, and his world had shifted with Fili’s lips on his.
The next two weeks had passed in a blur and all too fast. They had made out at the beach, giving each other blowjobs while sitting in the cool sand and kissing until Odin started to complain.
Kili had been heartbroken for months. Maybe Fili could have helped him get over her death, but it wasn’t meant to be. His dad had died half a year later, and they hadn’t come back. Until now. And what were the chances of running into him again after all those years?
“Getting cold out here. You coming?” Gimli got up.
“In a bit.”
“Suit yourself. Can I have the key?”
Kili handed him the key and was left alone with his thoughts.
It wasn’t much later that he heard the telltale sound of a running dog and a smile twitched at his lips. A large black dog headed into his direction and then suddenly stopped with an air of puzzlement.
Kili felt the hairs on his arms rise. The dog had only one eye.
“Odin?” He whispered.
The dog went mental.
“Odin! For pokker da!”
Kili jumped up and the grin spreading on his face was impossible to rein in. It was him all right. Like Kili he had grown his hair out during the last years, but he was still wearing shorts and a tank top, only now his arms were decorated with tattoos. His eyes sparkled like mother-of-pearl in the moonlight.
“Undskyld, han er lidt...” Fili broke off, his mouth hanging open. “Kili?”
Kili shrugged with a grin.
“Kili?”
“Yes. Funny old world, isn’t it?”
The grin that suddenly spread on Fili’s face was brighter than the full moon hanging above them.
“I thought of you earlier,” Kili said after taking a deep breath. “I haven’t been back since... our summer. We always came here for my parents’ wedding day, but my dad died that year and we never came back. Until now. I’m here with my cousin travelling down memory lane.”
“I’m... I’m sorry about your dad.” Fili s voice was a little deeper and fuller than Kili remembered. Much more pleasant.
“Thanks.”
“Hm.” Fili rubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “I... I sort of... I never forgot that summer either. I still come here every year and... and I often think of you when I’m down here walking Odin.”
“I’m surprised he’s still around.”
“He’s getting on in years,” Fili replied. “But he’s much better behaved now.”
Odin nudged Kili’s leg with his nose.
“Yeah, we’re talking about you, buddy,” Kili said and ruffled Odin’s ears.
When he straightened up again, Fili was looking at him with a strange expression. And to be honest, Kili felt a little weird himself. His heart was beating much faster than it had any right to.
“Uh...” Fili managed a small, crooked grin. “I don’t live far away from here... Can I invite you for a beer?”
Kili was just about to say that Gimli would probably wait for him when he realised that if he would tell Gimli this, his cousin would give him several earfuls about not having gone with his old crush.
Side by side they headed down an unlit path with Odin trailing behind. Neither of them knew what to say.
They were still silent when they had reached the small cottage, and Kili felt relieved and uncomfortable at the same time when he realised Fili was living here alone.
They sat down on the terrace behind the house with their beers and Odin curled up under the bench. Eventually they began to talk, chatted about what they had been up to during the last seven years, what they now did for a living, before quite suddenly running out of topics of conversation.
Into the somewhat uncomfortable silence, Odin popped a dog fart and sighed, making both men laugh.
Their eyes met again and Fili put his can down. “I like your hair,” he said. “Looks good when it’s long.”
“Thanks.” Kili bit his lip. “Yours looks awesome.”
They stared at each other again before Fili reached out and hesitantly touched one of Kili’s unruly black strands. Their eyes met again. Time stopped.
Fili leaned forward and Kili closed his eyes.
And suddenly the last seven years hadn’t happened. Fili pulled him close into a kiss and his arms were much stronger than Kili remembered, his chest broader and firmer, his touch new and familiar at the same time. It felt so good.
They parted again and Fili buried his nose in Kili’s hair. “I couldn’t forget you. I couldn’t get over you for a long time.”
“Me neither.” Kili lifted his head to look at Fili. “And...”
Fili smiled. The dimples had gotten him back then, and they got him again at that moment. This time, their kiss was less gentle and more hungry. Hands were roaming, and at one point one of Fili’s hands found its way under the hem of Kili’s shirt. They only parted when they were running out of air.
Cuddled together, their arms around each other, they were talking and kissing, and talking and kissing some more, until the first grey light of dawn made them realise that they had spent the whole night like that.
They had breakfast together, and as they ate, Kili’s phone buzzed.
Kili had to laugh and looked up at Fili.
“My cousin says we should come over for a coffee.”
Fili got up with a smile. “Hope he doesn’t mind the dog.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t.”
They had three weeks, and they made them count. Gimli occasionally complained about being the odd one out, but he was happy enough for Kili and didn’t grumble too loud.
This time they exchanged addresses, emails and phone numbers and parted with the promise of Fili visiting him in Dublin later that year.
Standing at the railing of the ferry Kili had tears in his eyes again as he watched the coast of Denmark disappear, and Gimli draped an arm around his shoulder.
Kili and Fili managed to keep in touch and occasionally had a video chat via Skype as well. Still, Kili missed him like fuck.
It was a cool and rainy October day and Kili was happy to be finally home again, home in his empty apartment where no one was there to greet him, to make him a coffee, or for whom he could make coffee as well. He had contemplated of getting a dog, but he worked stupid hours sometimes and the poor thing would have spent most of the day home alone.
The doorbell rang, and Kili headed for the door with a frown.
He was greeted by a pair of blue eyes and a pair of dimples.
“Hey,” Fili said. “I was in the area.”
Kili blinked. “But...”
“Not a good time?” The smile vanished.
“What? No!” Kili shook his head. “I just... I thought you’d give me a heads-up.”
Now Fili gave him a self-conscious grin. “Wanted to surprise you.”
“I can guarantee you did.” Kili stepped aside. “Do come in. Where’s Odin?”
“With my mother. I couldn’t take him, not for a holiday. Dogs have to be in quarantine for six weeks.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah... we’ll tackle that once I start relocating.”
Kili froze.
Fili stepped closer and slung one arm around Kili’s waist. Their eyes met, then their lips. Kili could have stayed like this forever but eventually they both needed more oxygen.
“See...” Fili said and toyed with a strand of Kili’s hair. “Life’s short. And I promised myself that this time I wouldn’t lose you again. I have a job interview on Wednesday... and I thought maybe you could help me find a place to stay?”
“Job interview?”
Fili winked. “Ireland is a great country, and Dublin is a great city. Life’s short and you only have that one.”
Kili shook his head and ran his fingers through strands of Fili’s golden mane.
“So maybe it’s a bit of a... bull at the gate?” He gave Kili a questioning look. “But I really... unless you don’t want...”
“No! I mean...” Kili swallowed and then had to grin. “Yes, yes I do want you, and I... I want to give us a chance.”
“Great.” Fili pulled him close again. “Odin says hi, he misses you too.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing him again.”
Their kiss was a warm promise full of affection, and both felt it grow into more.