Michael, Part 1


Niklas
Sometimes it’s hard to trace back how exactly one ends up in certain situations. Was there no way to have avoided finding myself here? Any other decision I could have made that would have led me somewhere else? Unfortunately, life isn’t a scientific experiment where you can pretend like your first try never happened and simply have a do-over.

If I had to pinpoint a time and a place where this story started, it would have to be a few years back, at Georgetown University, Washington, D.C. I was the first in my family to go to college, and to be quite honest, I was fucking nailing it. Growing up in Lawton, Oklahoma, we didn’t have much. And even so, I remember our house was robbed twice in that time. My Dad left us when I was 8, which got me to grow up fast. I was barely a kid; all I did was study. I ended up working so hard that I earned myself a scholarship and was doing my Master’s in epidemiology in D.C. My Mom was so proud. And I did her proud by continuing to work hard.

In the lab that I used to do experiments for my thesis, one day this tall, blond young man appeared. I was 23 years old and he was the first effective distraction my school work had seen. He was clearly a few years older than me, around 6’ (184 cm) and he had a muscular frame. I tried to continue working, keeping this distraction to a minimum. Until he came up to me.
“Hi, we haven’t met. I’m Niklas. I’m the PhD-exchange student.”
“H-hi. I’m Michael.”
We shook hands. His smile was out of this world. He had an ever-so-slight accent, but his name was the dead giveaway that he was foreign. Norwegian, he said, but until recently living and studying in Stockholm, Sweden.

That was the end of our conversation that day. Meeting Niklas was the catalyst, the original cause which indirectly brought me where I was right now. There was no way of knowing this at the time and if I had, I probably wouldn’t have followed my gut feeling of getting to know Niklas. At this moment in time however, I felt happy and excited about having this Nordic hunk in the lab.

That year, Niklas and I became friends. And Niklas became friends with pretty much everyone in our lab. He was a very charming guy, considerate and funny. We would go out drinking, usually as part of a group, which for me meant my first ever beer. Niklas stroked my back when I vomited, after I drank too much trying to keep up with him. 

There was something exotic about him, too. His muscular body had come from cross-country skiing from a young age; something his entire family was into, but he had been a successful athlete in, next to being a good student. After an injury the year before, he decided to quit. He even got me into working out and staying fit. To say I developed a crush was an understatement. I felt like Niklas cared for me in a way no-one else had in my life. 

My work wasn’t the same since. A whole new world had just opened up for me. I was a virgin at the age of 23 and I had never smoked weed. Those two things changed on the same Sunday. When Niklas and I did some pot in his dorm, we ended up jacking each other off. He never mentioned it again, but to me, this meant everything. I was in love and I convinced myself that on some level, he must have been as well.

When Niklas went back to Europe, I was a wreck. I cried in his arms at the airport. He promised we would keep in touch, and at first, we did. Niklas successfully defended his PhD-thesis back in Stockholm and graduated. He was now continuing to work in the medical research facility of a Stockholm hospital. I ended up taking a year longer than I had planned to finish my Master’s thesis. I got my degree. I remember feeling sad on the day of graduation, because I had wanted Niklas to be there, who did end up congratulating me over Facebook.

Slowly, as these things go, Niklas stopped replying to my long e-mails. We no longer spoke on FaceTime or Skype. I was confused, but I was able to bring back focus to my work at the university. Professors convinced me to continue studying as well, saying I had talent. I ended up enrolling in classes for my PhD. I finished the coursework and passed my exams after a year. I never really forgot about Niklas, but I didn’t think of him every day.

To do research for my thesis, I was encouraged by a lab partner to look at subjects with other universities. To have studied at different universities would look great on my resume, he said. There were different areas of expertise at different schools, as well as other equipment. And, he said, I could go somewhere within the US, but also to Canada, the UK, Europe… It was the last part that convinced me most.

That night I searched for PhD student positions. I saw one opening in Stockholm at the Karolinska Institutet. I immediately recognized the name; Niklas also worked here. Pharmacoepidemiology, the opening said. The effects for mother and baby of administering antibiotics to pregnant women with infection. It was a topic that definitely interested me, and there was no expertise for it in Georgetown. I closed my eyes, wondering if I was thinking rationally. All I saw was Niklas’s face and I remembered the feeling of his large, hard cock in my hand. I looked the opening over a few times and decided there was no harm in applying.

Deciding to apply for a PhD position in Stockholm and then deciding to send Niklas an e-mail once I got it. Actions that more directly influenced how I got to where I am now. Not circumstantial occurrences; my own actions. Looking back, I may have been naïve thinking about how my time in Stockholm would be like. Though at first, everything was going to plan.

Niklas replied to my e-mail quickly. He was excited that I would be coming to Stockholm and said he had missed me. Immediately I felt like our relationship was brought back on track. He asked if I had found accommodation, because he knew he could get me a cooler place to stay than a dorm on campus. I was thrilled. I replied that I of course would prefer to stay in the city, as long as the commute wasn’t too long. And that this meant that the two of us could go out on the town more often!

Alexander
Niklas promised he would arrange something for me and then e-mailed me back a few days later with the following information. Professor Alexander Bengtsson and his partner would wait for me at Arlanda Airport. Their loft apartment had an extra room and bathroom, which I would have all to myself. The photos of the apartment looked amazing. Also, I’d be so close to the city center. The medical department of the university, where I would be going five days a week, wasn’t too far either. Professor Bengtsson, a good friend of Niklas’s, would even be able to drive me there every morning and drive me back. I looked him up on the website of the university. In his early 40s, he looked quite young for a professor, friendly, and well, quite attractive.

It felt odd to pack for an entire year, but I managed. I was excited to leave the United States for the very first time, but I was actually more excited to see Niklas again. Not having a clue what I was getting myself into, nor could I have had, I flew to Sweden.

Rolling my big ass suitcase past customs and into the arrivals hall, I spotted professor Bengtsson immediately. He was tall, even taller than Niklas, like 6’4’’ (194cm). He was dressed in a nice shirt, and just generally looking how you’d expect a young professor to look. Beside him was a man who was closer to my height, 5’10’’ (178cm). He had brown hair with a bit of grey, making me guess he was a few years older than the professor. His broad shoulders and very muscular upper body, encased in a tight blue T-shirt grabbed my attention. He was beautiful, but I immediately sensed there was something about him by the way he looked at me.

Håkan
The professor enthusiastically walked up to me and introduced himself as Alexander.
“Call me Alex”, he said. His smile was beautiful.
He also introduced the other man as his husband, Håkan. It sounded like ‘Hawk-ahn’.
“Nice to meet you”, he said. Smiling, yet there was a sadness in his eyes.
Håkan offered to take my suitcase from me as the professor and I walked ahead of him towards parking. As cheerful as the professor was, Håkan was quiet, which made him intriguing to me. Soon enough I was learning that Scandinavian men were my jam, to put it simply. Though most of all, I was impatient to see Niklas.

Alex drove us into the city. I texted Niklas that I had arrived. I smiled. It made sense that his friends were a gay couple. I decided it must have been a sign for him to have me live with them. I sat in the back and looked at the two men in the front. Håkan’s wide back didn’t really fit into the seat. Alex’s arms looked very muscular through his shirt as well. I wonder if in the past, Niklas had fooled around with either of these gorgeous men. Or maybe even had a threesome.

Alex and I did most of the talking, asking questions back and forth about our areas of expertise at first. Alex taught immunology classes at Karolinska and also did research himself. I told him about my Master’s thesis. Then I asked some questions about the city of Stockholm, followed by Alex asking where I was from and what it was like.

We drove South on the E4, with mostly fields and trees on the side of the road, sometimes a small rock formation. There were some tiny houses here and there, but we were clearly out of the city. It didn’t feel like a summer day with 60 degrees (16 Celsius), but outside you could tell it actually was summer. I wondered what everything would look like in winter, covered in snow.

Alex asked me if I had been to Sweden before, to which I honestly said no. I didn’t mention I had never left the US, something I suddenly felt embarrassed about. When he asked why I chose Stockholm for my PhD research, I lied and said I chose by topic first and then remembered I had a friend working here.

We actually passed campus while on our way to the apartment, Alex pointed out. It was difficult to tell from the highway, but he promised he would show me around a day later, which was Sunday. 
“Today is all for settling in and sleeping off the jetlag, right?”, he asked me rhetorically.
“Sounds good”, I agreed.

Coming into the city via Klarastrandsleden, I was taken aback by how beautiful it was. Once we passed central station, the classic buildings on my left really gave the center a distinctive, European feel. On the right was water with more buildings across.
“We live on the island to the right here”, Alex said.
And sure enough, we took a right across the Kungsbron Bridge. Alex took a short left and then a right and said, “This will be your home for the next year! If all goes well.”
He chuckled as he flawlessly parked the car right in front of number 77, pretty much at the end of the street.

Håkan took my suitcase out of the back, his arms bulging as he lifted it out. He silently rolled it behind us into the elevator. It was a bit of a tight fit with my luggage and these buffed up guys, but we managed. Being at eye-level with Alex’s chest, and feeling Håkan’s shoulder and arm against mine, was enough to get an erection started. It only lasted a few seconds as soon enough the doors opened out to the 6th floor.

Alex and Håkan showed me around their apartment, which looked exactly like the photos. It was a nice place, I could definitely get used to it. Lots of natural light and even though the building itself was clearly quite old, inside everything looked so modern. My own bedroom and bathroom were more than sufficient, and I was already very happy that I wasn’t staying in some dorm.

“Would you like to sleep? Or I can make you some food?”
It was only the second time I heard Håkan’s deep voice, with a surprisingly thick accent, the thickest I’d heard from a Scandinavian person so far.
“Some food would be great!”

As Håkan started on omelets for all of us, Alex and I sat on the bar stools by the kitchen.
“I’m much too excited to sleep for a while”, I said.
“Maybe Håkan can show you around the area”, Alex said.
As we watched him work in the kitchen, I was easily distracted by Håkan’s big ass in his tight jeans.
“I’m meeting some people for a game of tennis later”, Alex continued, “but it would be great to go out for dinner to celebrate your arrival. I invited Niklas, but he couldn’t make it today.”
“Oh”, I said, too clearly disappointed.
I quickly followed it up with, “I’m sure I’ll see him soon.” 

While we ate, Håkan asked, “Do you go to gym in US?”
I nodded. I hadn’t gone very often lately, but since meeting Niklas I tried to stay in shape.
“I can take you to gym”, Håkan offered.
I smiled.
“That would be great.”

Going to my own room, I looked around and sighed. There was something crazy about me ending up here, but I was loving it. That had a lot to do with me not knowing what was still to come. I checked my phone and saw that Niklas indeed wasn’t going to be able to meet me today. He was spending the day with his family-in-law. I felt my heart sink. Niklas was seeing someone else. Part of me felt like I should have known. I hadn’t seen him in over two years and had barely heard from him in the last year. But it was still a harsh reality to be confronted with. I forced myself not to cry, shook it off and got changed, feeling gross in my travel clothes. I packed a gym bag.

When I got back to the living room, I saw Alex coming out of the bedroom on the other end, in an immaculately white tennis outfit, polo and shorts. He was holding a tennis racket. He looked amazing. I spotted him giving Håkan a quick kiss and a butt squeeze in the kitchen. Håkan barely stopped what he was doing. Alex turned toward me and didn’t seem to feel caught or embarrassed at all.
“See you later, enjoy your first day!”, he said cheerfully.

I was left alone with Håkan, who was just filling up the dishwasher. His body was just amazing and there was no way he wasn’t aware of it, showing off in those tight clothes. He stood up straight and looked at me. He looked at me and smiled. I experienced the silence as kind of awkward.
“So”, he finally said. “Gym is close, we can do gym first?”
“Oh, all right”, I said.
“Take back gym stuff and go to city?”
“Sure! I just need some more things”, I said.
“I leave towels in closet for you.”
“Ah, great!”

We went downstairs in the elevator in silence. I didn’t dare to make eye-contact, so I just looked at the doors. When we walked out, Håkan started talking.
“So, this is Kungsgatan”, he pointed to the street.
“Why is everything called Kungs?”, I asked. “What does it mean?”
“Kung means king. Island is Kungsholmen, King’s Island. All of this, long time ago was… royal property.”
As he spoke, he started walking toward the end of the street, the side we didn’t arrive from. 
“Cool!”, I said as I looked around. 
He took a right. It was hard not to get distracted by his large buttocks walking ahead of me in such tight jeans. His ass did look very squeezable.
“This is Kungsholmgatan”, he said, emphasizing the ‘holm’.
“King’s Island Street?”
“Yes! Very good!”, he said, smiling by far his biggest smile so far.
“Here is Espresso House”, he pointed to the coffee shop on the corner. 
“And across”, he pointed to a building on the other side of the intersection where there hung a large T over the entrance. 
“Is metro station. You go down. One stop to central station, but also take you further. Coffee and metro station is good combination for in the morning”, he said smiling.

I was loving how practical he was, showing me around, helping me remember where everything was. We walked around Espresso House, taking a right into another street.
“And now we walk to gym”, he said.
He asked me some questions about what I like to do in the gym, and I was surprised at how well the conversation went. Considering he had been so quiet when Alex was around. At the next intersection, he took a right, and soon enough we ended up at Puls & Träning.

At the front desk, I took out a one year subscription. I had confidence that I was going to be able to keep it up, and I was hoping Håkan and I would become gym buddies. Seeing him working out would surely motivate me.

In the lockerroom I saw Håkan change into black shorts and a tanktop. He wore white briefs for underwear. I looked without making it seem like I was looking. I had to push my boner up against my hip to keep it from showing.

Once I started, it turned out I was pretty motivated already. I really wanted to look my best for Niklas, so that he would regret not waiting for me. Håkan was mainly doing weight training and I was mainly doing cardio. But it was fine, I was able to go in my own pace. Which today was pretty fast. Håkan brought me out of my workout trance, saying he was done and going to the lockerroom.

Håkan
In the lockerroom, I found Håkan slipping off his sweaty white briefs. His large, muscular ass was bare in front of me. My boner was re-awakening. He turned around when he heard the door close behind me. His very large, uncircumcised cock, flopped in front of him.
“Hey”, he said, “Thought you would continue for longer. You were doing good.”
I tried not to stare as he seemed not at all phased by his own nudity.
“I was in the zone”, I said, faking a chuckle, “I’m good now.”
Håkan smiled back and looked for his towel.
“I see you in shower, yes?”
“Sure, you go ahead”, I said.

Worried about how I was going to finish this shower without a massive hardon, I started getting undressed.



Håkan


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