"Soooo..." Preben was grinning. A proper wolf-like grin that made Erik feel like he was in the spotlight at an event he really didn't want to be at.
No way could he escape now.
"So what?" Erik sneered in reply, trying to hide his discomfort by taking a large gulp of coffee.
"Our little brother has found himself a new woman..." Preben's smile didn't falter.
"He has?" Björn tore his gaze from the four kids playing on the floor in the living-room and stared at Erik, a smile creeping onto his features to match Preben's.
"He has indeed," Preben nodded.
"And you didn't tell us? How awful," Björn glared.
"None of your fucking business what I do," Erik hissed at them both under his breath.
"That is where you're wrong!" Preben laughed. "It is so our business what you do," he added and smirked.
"Indeed," Björn nodded. "Your love life is a great concern of ours."
"Yeah right," Erik scoffed. "You spent a full month asking me about my honeymoon when I got married."
"We had to know!" Preben exclaimed and flashed him a wicked grin. "I tell you what Elizbetha and I do!"
"And I'd rather not know at all," Erik grimaced. "At least not in such great details."
"I'm so offended," Preben joked and nudged Björn in the side. "Björn. Tell Erik about your honeymoon."
"No," Erik and Björn said in unison – Björn's face going a shade darker pink than before.
"Killjoys," Preben huffed.
"You are far too invested in other people's sex lives," Erik scolded his brother. "Right Björn?"
Björn simply nodded.
"I think you're just jealous of mine," Preben laughed and winked at them both.
"Not in the slightest," Björn grimaced.
"Wow. No need to be so rude," Preben frowned. "How can you not want to hear about our bedroom adventures? Elizabetha shares it with her friends!"
"Then I pity them all," Björn mumbled, and Erik couldn't help but chuckle.
"Fine," Preben huffed. "But you should at least let us meet this new woman of yours. Is she as much of an ice queen as Natalia is?"
"Uh..." Erik looked confused. "That's really not very nice of you to say about Natalia. We're still friends... And she's still the mother of your nephew," he shot his brother a dirty look.
"Sorry, sorry. But the two of you could rule the northern hemisphere if you wanted with those icy cold looks of yours," Preben smiled.
"Thank you?" Erik rolled his eyes and sighed. "Cécile isn't like Natalia. Not at all really... or at least not a lot," he mumbled.
"And Halldór? How does she handle him?" Björn asked, his nephew's safety and happiness was much more important to him than anything else.
"Halldór adores her. He's excited about every dance class and doesn't seem to mind at all that she's stayed the night," Erik smiled softly and cast a fond glance over to Halldór and his three cousins playing happily on the floor. "And as far as I can see... she adores him too."
"Have you told Natalia you're dating someone?" Preben lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Yeah," Erik nodded. "She doesn't mind. After all, she's happy with Alfred, so why would it bother her if I'm happy too?"
"Man, more people should be as chill about a divorce as you two," Preben laughed.
"Heh, yes. Maybe. We'll see how it goes after this weekend. Halldór is staying there while I finish some books up for Monday."
"Well I think you should invite your new girlfriend over for dinner on Tuesday then!" Preben suggested with a smile. "She has to be introduced to the whole family at some point."
"Bit soon maybe," Erik grumbled.
"Timo met you guys the same time he met me," Björn interjected.
"That's cause you met your husband at a concert," Erik reminded him, jabbing a pointed finger into his brothers' side.
Björn yelped and punched Erik's arm lightly in retaliation.
"Speaking of Timo..." Erik said as he rubbed his arm. "Where is he? I missed our last coffee date last week due to deadlines and was hoping he'd be here..."
"He's... out," Björn whispered and glanced worriedly over to his two sons playing in the other room.
"Uh... okay?" Erik looked confused and worried.
"Out, buying a present for the boys," Björn whispered.
"Ooh," Erik nodded.
"I even know what it is," Preben sing-songed happily.
"Do I get a clue?" Erik chuckled.
"Timo went to visit Ludwig," Preben said and grinned.
"What? You're joking," he turned to Björn, trying very hard to mime and sign 'you're getting a god damn dog?' without Björn's sons catching on.
Björn nodded, smug grin plastered on his face.
"You do realise this means Halldór is going to start bugging me for a bird again... or worse yet, a troll," Erik grumbled and sank further down in his chair.
"Get the kid a bird then," Preben laughed.
"No thank you. One little boy making a mess of my house is enough. I don't want to add feathers to the mix any time soon."
"Fair point," Björn chuckled. "But we're two adults who can clean, so we'll cope."
"Erik is just bitter because he's more a cat-person," Preben laughed and flashed his youngest brother a grin.
"Am not," Erik frowned.
"Correction. You are a cat," Preben replied, dodging Erik's feeble attempt at hitting him from across the little table.
"Quick, get some string," Björn added with a chuckle.
Erik was just about to tell them just how many ways he could kill them with a piece of string, but a loud wail from the other room tore his attention from murder to paternal instinct in less than a second.
Halldór was crying his eyes out, holding his hand over his face as his cousins looked at him worriedly.
Sólfríð – Preben's daughter – was trying her best to comfort her younger cousin, patting his head and offering to kiss it all better.
Peter and Örjan were standing there and looking both awkward and uncomfortable. Örjan had gone rather pale and was clinging to his brother's arm with all his might.
"Whops," Erik said as he spotted the blood. "Let's see that little one," he knelt down next to Halldór and gently placed his hand over the boy's own.
"Does it hurt?"
Halldór swallowed a hiccup and nodded, tears still streaming down his face.
"He fell," Örjan whispered.
"We were just playing," Peter explained, looking at Halldór worriedly.
"Accidents happen," Erik told them as he lifted Halldór up in his arms. "We'll just go clean this up and be right back," he reassured the others.
As he carried his son to the bathroom he could hear Sólfríð tell Preben how it happened.
No one's fault. Just four overly excited children playing.
"Come on little man," Erik whispered softly as he placed Halldór on his knee, balancing himself on the toilet seat as he tried to clean the blood off Halldór's face.
"Does it hurt here?" he asked and gently pressed his finger to Halldór's nose.
"Yes," Halldór replied weakly, blood still seeping out.
"Sorry," Erik apologised and held some paper to Halldór's nose again, humming softly as he waited for the bleeding to stop.
"There," he said as he removed the paper, glad to see no more red dripping from his sons' nose. "Much better."
Halldór sniffled and touched his own nose.
"It's not broken," Erik reassured him. "Just a little bruised," he added and smiled.
"Is that bad?" Halldór questioned.
"Only if you want a broken nose."
"Like Uncle Ivan's?"
"Oh no," Erik chuckled. "Ivan's nose isn't broken, just a little bit different than yours and mine."
"But I like Uncle Ivan's nose. I want one like him," Halldór frowned, forgetting all about his own for the moment.
"You should tell him that next time," Erik smiled. "I'm sure he'll be very happy to hear that."
"Do people not tell him that?" Halldór was now much more concerned about his uncle than himself.
"Not often no," Erik shook his head. "So next time you like something about someone, you should tell them. People like compliments. It makes them happy."
"What's a compliment then?" Halldór asked.
"Things like 'you're nice' or 'you're pretty'," Erik explained. "Or even saying they're good at something."
"Oh!" Halldór's face lit up. "So I should tell the ones in my dance class they're all pretty and good at dancing?"
"Yes, you could do that."
"The boys too?"
"Would you like being told you're pretty and talented?" Erik asked him.
"Yes," Halldór replied without missing a beat.
"Then surely others won't mind either," Erik ruffled his hair and gave his forehead a light kiss.
"Do you tell Cécile she's pretty?" Halldór whispered.
"Not nearly as often as I should," Erik sighed and lifted Halldór high up before hugging him tightly. "I'll be sure to do so next time I see her."
"I'll remind you," Halldór giggled.
"Good. Thank you," Erik laughed. "Now let's go borrow some clothes from your cousins. Yours got a little bit bloody."
"Is that bad?" Halldór asked, looking down at his t-shirt with a concerned frown.
"Not at all. It will wash out," Erik smiled.
"Good. Trolls will eat me if I smell of blood, right?"
"Only Christian blood," Erik laughed. "And don't worry. No troll will get you when I'm here."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Halldór was more than content with this reply. Wrapping his arms around Erik's neck and letting his father carry him back to the living-room.
Sólfríð was the first to approach Halldór when they returned. Peter second – with Örjan in tow.
One change of clothes later and Halldór had forgotten all about his earlier mishap.
Running around in Sólfríð's purple dress was much more fun than dwelling on a bleeding nose – much to Erik's delight.
"For someone who's only got one child, you are remarkably calm when he hurts himself," Preben mused. "I used to rush over to Sólfríð at the smallest sound..."
"I learned from your mistakes," Erik winked.
"Don't we all," Björn rolled his eyes and chuckled.
"Oh no fair. Just because I'm the oldest," Preben huffed and crossed his arms. "You guys are awful brothers."
"Says the guy who tied us to a tree because we didn't want to go on an adventure with you," Erik snorted.
"I was going to be a Viking explorer, but I needed a crew, you guys ruined my plans," Preben frowned.
"Nothing stopping you going for that dream now," Björn laughed.
"And give up my current super sweet architecture job? Ha, not likely," Preben huffed triumphantly before pouring them all another cup coffee.
"The only one who got closest to being a Viking adventurer was Erik," Björn mused as he sipped his coffee.
"You have no idea how amused I am by the fact that Halldórs birth certificate says 'Halldór Eriksson'," Preben smiled. "Legally, that's his name! I love it."
"It's based on the same idea as what out surname started as... So I don't mind," Erik shrugged. "The only issue is when I go to get his vaccinations or what not and have to explain that since he's born in Iceland we decided to roll with the traditional naming lawn in Iceland, thus the different surname... Natalia sometimes write it as Nataliuson, just to fuck with everyone," Erik chuckled.
"Still, you're probably the one who got to travel the most out of us three," Preben sighed.
"Natalia keeps offering you guys cheap or free tickets," Erik rolled his eyes and tapped the coffee cup with his index finger. "You can't say you've not had the opportunity."
"Got responsibilities now! I have to be mature!" Preben exclaimed and threw his hands up in the air.
"Sure, keep telling yourself that," Erik snorted, and Björn laughed darkly.
"I'm not going on long trips with two kids," Björn sighed. "A car trip longer than one hour is already torture enough."
"Especially when they eat far too many sweets and then throw up in the back-seat?" Erik asked with a smirk.
"Ugh, on hot days you can still smell it," Björn groaned.
"That was one hundred percent your own fault," Preben chuckled. "If I recall correctly Timo told you not to give them anything, but you just ignored him."
"Yes," Björn hung his head in shame.
"It's not all bad," Erik said, trying to hide his amusement. "We all learnt an important lesson that day."
"Yes," Preben grinned. "Like: Never let kids eat sweets and read comics while on windy mountain roads. Thanks for making that mistake first."
"You're welcome," Björn mumbled bitterly.
"Oh, speaking of lessons... How's Halldór doing in his dancing lessons?" Preben inquired as he lent closer to Erik.
"He's doing well. I think he really enjoys them. Especially now that he knows he's part of the Christmas show," Erik smiled fondly.
"You have better invite us all," Preben warned him.
"No hope in hell that I can keep you away either," Erik laughed softly. "Besides, I'd like you all to be there. I think it's done wonders for his confidence..."
"Watch out," Björn smiled. "He'll end up being less antisocial than you if he keeps this up."
"Good. Maybe then he'll actually have a larger circle of friends than I did," Erik rolled his eyes.
"You had us," Preben reminded him.
"Ah yes. Wonderful older brothers that you've been," Erik tried not to frown. "Like the time you both got us completely lost in the woods until dad found us."
"Well we survived," Preben shrugged.
"Or the time you convinced me to steal a boat and the coastguard had to come pick us up after you ran us ashore on a rock..." Erik glared.
"Okay, that was not one of our finest moments..." Preben coughed and looked embarrassed. "Maybe don't tell your new girlfriend about those times."
"Oh no," Erik smiled smugly. "I'll just tell her about the time you tried to go ice bathing with Timo."
"If you do I'm telling her about the time you brought home a lost cat, and dad came home to you trying to feed a wild lynx frozen salmon," Preben smirked.
"I can't wait for this family dinner," Björn hummed. "Next weekend will fit perfectly for us all, right?"
"I have to ask Cécile first..." Erik grumbled.
"No, no. She's free," Björn smiled and held up Erik's phone. "I just asked."
"You stole my phone?!" Erik grabbed the phone and glared at his brother. "Since when did you get good at pickpocketing?"
"Since I realised it's the only way to keep two small boys occupied when they need their vaccinations," Björn smirked.
"You're awful," Erik grumbled, inspecting his phone – relieved to find that Björn hadn't sent Cécile anything but the dinner invitation.
"It's just a small payback for the time you filled my coat pockets with condoms," Björn smirked.
"I'm the reason Timo went home with you, you owe me your happy marriage life," Erik hissed.
"Eh," Björn shrugged and ignored the fact that Preben was laughing so hard he had stopped making a sound and was instead shaking in his chair and trying to breathe properly.
"If this relationship crashes and burns I'm holding you both responsible," Erik hissed.
"Don't worry," Preben reassured him once he stopped laughing long enough to catch a breath. "We only have your best interest at heart."
"Well, Halldór's best interest," Björn corrected. "But that's close enough."
"You two are going to be the death of me," Erik groaned, resting his head against the table. "Never mind raising a child. Halldór's an angel in comparison to you two."
"Raised by the devil himself," Preben laughed.
"Dad would be so flattered if he could hear you," Erik snorted.
"We addressed last years Christmas card to him as 'Dear Satan'," Preben smiled. "It took him a week before he realised it wasn't just 'Santa' misspelled."
"That does explain why he was in such a good mood last time he phoned," Erik sighed and shook his head.
"Flattery gets you into his good books, insulting him makes him proud," Preben smiled before turning his attention toward the children.
"Right kids," he said and stood up. "Better clean up now."
"I hope Cécile isn't easily scared," Björn whispered to Erik as Preben tried to convince four children to pick up their toys.
"So far she's not ran off..." Erik smiled. "So maybe there's hope."
Names:
Sólfríð - Faroe Islands
Örjan - Landonia
Björn - Sweden