"You never Googled him?" asks Spencer. No. I didn't, and according to the latest research, it was the right thing to do. But then why does it feel so wrong? I knew about his wife and that was kind of okay. Why wouldn't it be? Alec is not the first man to have a family. A child, though, changes everything. Men are less willing to give up their lives just because a guy makes eyes at them. They are responsible for an innocent life and even though deep down I wish Alec was the type of asshole father, I know I've lost. He isn't. Is he? My head is buzzing with a thousand questions and basically, I don't know Alec at all. I know absolutely nothing about him or life, his wishes, dreams and hopes. Very banal things like coffee or tea? Summer or winter person?

"No. Why should I?", I answer frustrated. It wouldn't have changed anything. Besides, every piece of information, every picture, every video, would have pulled me deeper into the misery of grief, melancholy and melancholy. I would never have escaped that spiral.
"I would have," he counters quietly, earning a jealous look from Raphael, which Spencer skillfully ignores.
"And then what? Would I have kept looking at what I can't have. No thanks, I'm not that frustrated," I say flippantly.
"Tzz, you say now babe." Spencer hasn't forgotten the arrogant diva-like eyebrow raise all these years. Earlier, I found him extremely attractive and not infrequently Raphael would catch me with a furrowed brow and envious looks as he kissed Spencer and kneaded his firm ass. Yes, I too would have loved a taste of Spencer Andersson.

Today, however, it feels wrong and immoral to think of spending a night with Spencer. Not because they are happily married and fathers to a beautiful little angel. No, they are family and you don't share a bed with your family. I am glad to have these two different, loving men by my side in addition to Ragnor. Without them, a part of me would be missing.
"What actually happened?" asks Raphael with interest. I've put them on the rack long enough. It's time for the truth.
"We went to Jace's birthday party. Jonathan's buddy? You remember?"
"The handsome blond with the glaring eyes?" asks Spencer. Nodding in the affirmative. That's the one.

"Jonathan told me about Alec, his former best friend and first love. They played soccer together. But that it was my one-night stand, I only found out at the party. Because suddenly he was standing there. Just like that, singing weird hymns with his old friends. He was so... indescribable He, like an apparition from nowhere. Radiant, present, the happy smile.... fuck I had the shock of my life. Honestly. It was so blatantly unreal, I still can't get my head around it. I tried to picture him, Jonathan's friend from before. I thought, maybe he's the arrogant super athlete asshole who overshadows everything with his mega ego and draws all the attention to himself. But that it is him, Alec from London, I did not expect. Jonathan introduced us and Alec ignored me. We had a little talk in the kitchen and Alec was so different from London. Distant and cool. Clearly confused and angry too. And scared, I sensed it acutely. He was scared, because sure, our adventure was three years ago, but he's officially considered straight."

Spencer rolls his eyes and I pause my narration, waiting anxiously for him to speak.
"Straight. Sure."
"Oh come on, you can't tell that from all men," I defend Alec. What about me? I don't know.
"Anyway. Keep talking. Then what happened?" Spencer craves every scrap of information, rubbing his hands together internally and hanging on my lips with anticipation. I knew.
"We had a brief conversation and he made it clear that I should keep my promise. Not to talk about us or his homosexuality. I was pissed and confused, my heart was racing and I didn't know if it was from excitement or because Alec had been so damn close to me. He smelled so good, like Alec and sunshine and his fingers on my skin.... I can still feel them. The touch, it tingles and I wish so much my fucking heart would finally stop screaming his name. Then there's Jonathan who kind of ignored me too. Instead he was hung up on some guy. Andrew. Such an asshole. He seriously suggested a threesome..."

"Please what?" exclaims Raphael in shock. He's not one for sharing.
"Hmmm. A threesome. I'm not against it in principle. But the guy didn't go at all. Not my type at all, and he obviously wanted me to be the bottom."
"Did he say that?" asks Raphael, and I shake my head vigorously.
"No, he didn't. I didn't let them finish at all, I went straight out into the garden. More like fled. Yes, clearly I was running from all those hormones and testosterone. But that doesn't really matter. The way the guy looked at me, I was clearly the prey. I hate it when guys go for the flesh like that."
"I remember a time when you were the hunter, too," Spencer counters, and unfortunately I have to agree with him.
"Yeah, I do. But that's behind me. Do you want to talk about that now or the fact that Alec and I made out violently in the backyard?" My two friends' reaction is worth all the money in the world. Their head rush, priceless.
"Well, are you guys having fun?", I say, wagging my finger at the level of their heads. They both grin and I can't stay mad at them one bit. If I were in their shoes, I probably wouldn't feel any different.

"In my mind, you were on top," Raphael muses.
"No way," Spencer interjects energetically.
"Definitely, Alec had the upper hand." I fall silent.
"Who won?" No one.
"Nobody," I say triumphantly.
"Nobody, because it didn't actually come to sex. We kissed and made out violently. You can describe our state as naked. Alec has such a perfect tight ass and his panties.... fuck I love it. The way he kissed me. With so much abandon and desire, his moans, the flushed cheeks and I'm in love with his muscles. Fuck, I'm obsessed with his perfect body. I'm the quintessential cliché and really, I don't want to define a man by his body. But look at him, he's so perfect, his hair is soft, so smooth and pure sex. When my fingers glide through the dark strands, my body tingles all over. No matter if he talks about everyday things or whispers softly in my ear how much he desires me. His voice sounds like music in my ears. Velvety soft and melodically warm. His whole being is beautiful and wonderful and sexy and... fuck am I fucked." Sighing, I bury my hands in my hair, lightly massaging my scalp, thinking of Alec and his hands, and abruptly I realize I meant every word. I'm lost, I'm obsessed, I'm in love with Alexander.

"Definitely. Wow, you totally got it," Spencer says, and Raphael next to him nods in affirmation.
"Totally got you. When was the last time you raved about a guy like that?"
"It's been forever," Spencer answers his husband's question. He's right. It really has been a long time, and yet it feels different this time. More intense. More compact and yet I can barely grasp my fully charged emotions. My feelings are hard to describe and don't fit into any namable pigeonhole. My head is empty, all words gone, blown away across the ocean and lost in the waves of loneliness.

"And how did Jonathan find out about you guys?"
"He saw us. I'm not sure how long he stood there. But he heard what I told Alec about the raid."
"Okay. What does he say?" asks Spencer, concerned.
"Alec?" Spencer nods and Raphael sits so tense next to his husband, kneading his hands and watching my every move.
"He was angry and would have loved to beat the guy to a pulp right then and there," I answer quietly. It's hard for me to talk about it. I can't get the images of their guilt-ridden faces out of my head either. Yet they are anything but to blame.
"As are we all," Spencer growls, and Raphael grumbles in agreement.
"Anyway, at some point it got too much for Jonathan and he interrupted us. I got all beside myself and went into a kind of stupor. Alec took over, talked to Jonathan, and helped me get dressed again. They were arguing. It was dirty and abusive. I've never seen Jonathan like that. He fled into the house and we had a short argument until he left the party. Of course, I went after him and the cab ride was crazy weird."

"Where was Alec?", Spencer interrupts me with interest.
"I don't know," I say truthfully.
"He was just gone. Clary sent me his number. But I don't know whether to reach out or just forget about him. It's all too much right now, and I can easily imagine that he doesn't even want to see me anymore either."
"What makes you think that?" asks Raphael.
"He just left. It was goodbye, his words... definitely goodbye," I explain, sighing.
"What happened back home? Something happened. Not just Alec and the kiss and that non-sex thing. Why are you so upset?" Spencer is one of the most sensitive people I know, and Spencer knows me pretty well.

"Jonathan was freaking out. He was angry and caught up in himself and his emotions. Driven by blind anger and the hurt of my betrayal. First he packed my bags, we talked or we didn't. It wasn't a clear level and Jonathan didn't want me near him. He lost control, of himself and then he threw me against the wall. His body pressed against mine and I felt so helpless."
"Don't. His. Shit. Serious," Spencer growls angrily. Raphael, too, is racing with indignation, snorting so loudly I fear he might hyperventilate at any moment.
"Did he hit you?"
"No," I answer quietly, looking down at my hands in shame.
"But I had a panic attack. I feel like such shit. It's so pathetic, and I just want to-"

"No!" shouts Spencer energetically, jumping up and settling down in front of my legs. His big hands clasp mine and one word out of his mouth is enough to get my attention on him.
"Don't." Ice blue eyes fix on mine and I feel slightly dizzy. His gaze is so penetrating, going through my marrow and just won't let me go. He keeps me in the here and now and I gulp, burning inside so much it hurts. Everything hurts, my bones, my muscles, my throat and my eyes. I am tired and want so much to sleep. My hands are ice cold and I'm shaking.
"Don't do that. You are not pathetic. You are not to blame. You're human and you're allowed to have fears. All right?" he says in a firm raspy voice. I nod, feeling the cold leave my body bit by bit. Gently, Spencer's thumbs brush over my skin, caressing reassuringly and providing warmth in the moment of the icy winter storm.

"I was so scared and suddenly I couldn't breathe. It felt like that time and I saw pictures of the alley and my blood.... All over the dirty asphalt. Why was I in therapy for so long? What's the point of it all, when a moment takes me right back there?", I say through my tears, and I'm not one bit ashamed of it. I'm sitting in my oldest friends' house, protected and loved, in a comfortable fucking armchair. Here I can be weak, cry, and let myself fall.
"He destroyed the painting," I whisper.
"Such an asshole," Raphael confirms, and Spencer pulls me into a tight hug. Power and strength shift from his body to mine, and the next words come impossibly easily from my lips.
"He'll pay for that," I say vehemently.
"He should."

"That wasn't all. After that, Jonathan went into the kitchen and I confronted him. About his anger and what made him overreact like that. I don't know what I was expecting. Of course, he blamed me for everything. Not to mention Alec. In his eyes we did everything wrong. And he had something going with this Andrew guy. Long before I ever met Alec. What am I supposed to think? He, uh... He's... fuck he's accusing me of all these things and he did the same thing. I'm so angry and I want to destroy something. But Jonathan already did that. He was standing in the kitchen like a maniac, screaming, throwing china at me and raging. I felt like he was possessed, in a rage, a rampage, that pretty much sums it up."
"That's where you got the cut, right?" Spencer gently strokes my cheek and I nod in affirmation. In the cab, I wiped away the blood and was relieved that the cut wasn't too deep.
"Would you like a Band-Aid? We have the latest models. Spaceships, dogs, superheroes, even a unicorn," Spencer says, playfully wiggling his eyebrows.
"No thanks. It's okay. Just thank you for letting me come here and just dump my mental garbage on your carpet. That really means a lot to me."
"Not for that Magnus. We've known each other too long to just leave you alone with your pain and anger. We're not and you know it. If it had been one of us, you would have acted the same way," Raphael says comfortingly, his words flowing through my body warm and healing. The pressure in my chest softens, a slight pulsing, but far from threatening.

"Honestly? Don't feel bad about it. I'm pretty sure that's been going on for a while with those two. Why was he at the party? Have you ever asked yourself that?" Spencer looks at me urgently, and I get the uneasy feeling that he's about to reveal a new secret at any moment.
"No. I don't really feel like thinking about it." Actually, I'd like to erase last night from my memory.
"Yes, I understand that. But I know the truth, and you know what? Enough. Andrew and Jonathan went to high school together. Andrew was in the same year as me. Exchange student, you remember. And he bragged about banging the hot forward. So screw what he told you. Jonathan's no better. Why do you think he didn't tell you he knew andrew? Never introduced him to you? I'm sure it's that Andrew and no one else." Overwhelmed, I shrug my shoulders and look into Spencer's sympathetic eyes.

"In the end, you both lost. Somehow," Raphael says with a shrug.
"And so did Alec. Jonathan's gone. I hardly think he'll take the chance and piss him off even more. Probably his lawyer will already draft a letter to that effect. An offer, so to speak," Spencer says, and I nod in affirmation.
"You're probably right. Still. I can't just leave it like that. This thing with us... is more. Do you understand?", I ask pleadingly, hoping that both of them will give me their blessing.
"Sure, we understand. But we don't want him to break your heart either."
"Don't worry. Already done," I sigh and Spencer laughs.

"When was the last time you had really good sex?" asks Raphael.
"Define really good sex?", I ask.
"Mind-blowing. Forgettable. Weightless."
"In London," I answer without having to think about it for long. With Alec. My life is a mess, the shambles getting bigger and bigger by the minute. I hate it.
"What superpower did you actually use to identify Alec so quickly?", I ask curiously. It's a mystery to me. Those few crumbs don't make a finished puzzle.

"Simple," Spencer says, sitting back down in his seat next to Raphael.
"I love soccer." Rolling my eyes, I sigh. I'd totally forgotten about that.
"That's right. That had slipped my mind. What team was that again?"
"Idrottsföreningen Kamraterna Ystad," Spencer replies, his chest swelling with pride and honor. Even though I didn't understand a single word he said, the timbre of the soft singsong-like Swedish language exudes an air of warmth.
"I don't know," I counter with a laugh.
"IFK Ystad FK will do. No all good. It's not that easy. I love my mother tongue, but I don't ask you to understand it. European soccer is madness. A witch's cauldron with fan groups singing, stadium beer and hot guys fighting over a ball."
"Yeah why? Why doesn't everyone get one?", I ask indignantly and not entirely seriously.

"Don't let your Prince Charming hear you say that. But all kidding aside, it was easy for me to find Alec. You've been going to London every fall since you ran your father's company. One clue, of course, was Chelsea and that he hadn't been in London long. I just had to look up which players were brought in by Chelsea just before the transfer window closed. And that left only Alec. He was the only American. I know him, by the way. So not personally, but did you know he played for one of the top clubs in Germany? He even won the champions league. Magnus that's like fucking Olympic gold in soccer. Besides winning the World Cup. Every player dreams about it. They all lie in bed at night with wet panties and dream of holding the trophy in their hands. Alec has won many tournaments with his teams, unbelievable. He's really one of the talented ones among a tremendous amount of players."

"Are you maybe going to ask him to marry you?" asks Raphael, offended.
"What, no baby I don't want that...och now don't be offended." I think it's time for me to go.
"I'll leave you guys to it," I interrupt my friends and they both look at me in horror.
"Why?" asks Raphael.
"I've taken enough of you guys. You guys need to work and I need to get some sleep."
"Yeah right. Yorick's room is free. We'll be here if you need us, okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks guys. I know I don't deserve you guys. So, thanks."
"You're an idiot Magnus," Spencer says with a laugh.
"When am I ever not?"
"When you're asleep," promptly follows his reply, and the heart-filled laughter from the throats of my two friends mixes with the stifled sound from mine. It's beautiful and strangely liberating. I've missed this, the unforced, just being able to say what I think, what I feel. Without having to weigh every word to trigger a possible stream of tears.

"One day I'll read a bestseller with your name on it. And that will be the best day. I believe in you and Kjell." I mean it exactly as I say it. Spencer looks at me with teary eyes, I know his dream and fervently hope it comes true soon.
"Sleep tight."
"And galactic dreams," they call after me, and slightly confused, I roll my suitcase through the living area into Yorick's room.