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but i've got oceans to cross.

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O N E  

Written after their first skype call, when Isak was ruffle-haired and glowing in the lights of an exotic, distant city, his eyes as bright as the metropolis gleaming through the windows behind him, and Even had been lying in their bed, alone.  

Dear Isak,

Please come home.



Written on day thirteen of being apart, sat down at their rickety table, eating pasta alone. Cooking isn't as fun when he doesn't have Isak to cook for, and Even has always, always hated eating alone.

To the most beautiful boy in the world,

I hope you’re having a wonderful time.  It’s only been two weeks and I miss you more than I thought was possible.  Our flat is so tiny and everyone said it was too small for two people, but with you gone, it feels far too big for one.  I’m rattling around in empty space, and I just miss you so much.  I can’t stop smelling the clothes you left behind.  I can’t stop texting you and then worrying I’m texting too much and wishing I could take it back.  I can’t stop beaming whenever I catch sight of blonde curls coming through the door at KB, only to get my heart broken again when I remember it isn’t you.  I can’t stop missing you.



Written in the early morning, Even laying on his stomach in bed, feeling sweaty against the sheets. He'd woken up from a dream about Isak’s naked body writhing underneath him, and he's still hard but in a not particularly urgent way. He's smiling as he thinks about Isak, and what he's possibly doing right at that moment thousands of miles away.

Dear blowjob master,

I know you like sexting, but don't you think a sexy letter would be so much more romantic? I imagine people in the old days, before you could just send Snapchat nudes or whatever, sitting down by candlelight to pen out an epic ode to their lovers bodies. I would love to write an ode to your body. It's the most beautiful body in the universe, and I miss every inch of it, from your toes to the top of your curls. There are some parts I mkss most, of course; your sexy nerdy brain, and your big green eyes, and your dick. Fuck do I miss your dick. I miss sucking it, and I miss the stupid face you make when you come.

Mostly, I miss fucking you. I miss every single sound you make, face you pull, the little wriggle you do when you hitch your legs up. I miss --

(That letter never gets sent because Even gets a little too busy to finish writing it.)


F O U R  

Written at four in the afternoon, at KB during a slow part of Even’s shift. He leans on the counter and scrawls on the back of a long strip of receipt paper; it starts with a doodle, a comic strip like he always draws Isak, of a little baby with curls sticking out of a backwards cap. 

Dear Is,

I just saw the cutest baby in KB, you wouldn't believe it. He had big green eyes and your exact fluffy blonde curls, and he looked so sweet, bouncing and babbling in his dad’s arms. All I could think about was our kids someday. I know we've never talked about it in so many words, but I dream about starting a family with you all the time. I think we’d be the perfect balance of parents; I'll be the impulsive one, you'll be the rational one, I'll teach them art and you'll teach them science, and we’ll both teach them how to be good people who love everyone in the world equally. I know you were lonely being an only child, and I loved having a big family, so I think we should have three kids, or maybe four. My parents always say four was too many but me and you are such a good team, I think we could do it. I want our first child to be a little girl who looks exactly like you, because you're the most beautiful person in the world and I've seen your adorable baby photos. And I secretly like the name Leonie. Leonie Valtersen-Næsheim sounds adorable, doesn't --

Fuck. I'm sorry. I won't send this; it isn't very minute-by-minute. I just miss you so much, and I can't wait for our whole lives to start when you get home.



Written after one month, on a too-late night when Even’s mind is buzzing just in the edge of dangerously, when he feels too hopped up to sleep, when he's pacing their apartment and looking at pictures of Isak on his phone and remembering how those fluffy blonde curls used to feel pressed against his chest, ticking him and flopping in his face annoyingly when Isak was fast asleep.

Dearest boy who can’t hold his breath underwater,

I'm worried about how much I miss you. I don't know if it's healthy to be like this; there are good parts in my days still, sure, but nothing quite feels the same without you here. I'm lonely every night and it makes my heart feel dizzy, it makes me sometimes want to cry, just because my arms feel so empty in our bed. It's like you left me, even though we talk every day and we had Skype sex this weekend and you texted me ten minutes ago to tell me you're thinking about me in the middle of the night. I know you miss me, too, and I know you're going to come back, so why does it hurt this bad?

Sometimes I worry I’m a worse person without you.  That’s awful.  My worth doesn’t rely on you; I’d never put that on you, and I’d never want to be so cruel to myself as to believe that, either.  But at the same time, from the moment we met, you’ve been helping me change for the better.  I miss that, and you, and I'm terrified I'm putting too much of myself on you, and I'm terrified you'll grow without me while you're gone, and I'm terrified you won't grow without me and that will mean we're stuck in an unhealthy way.  All I know for certain is every second without you makes me remember how lucky I am to have found you.  Please don't leave me.  Please, please don't leave.


P L U S  O N E  

Written with a smile, clear eyes, a well-rested head, and Isak’s old red snapback held tight, pressed right against his heart.


I'm writing this in a letter because it seems far more dramatic and romantic. Guess which handsome, charming boyfriend of yours finally earned enough tips to book a ticket out to come see you! Clear your schedule between the 21st and the 26th, the man of your life is coming to fuck and cuddle and kiss and hold you and catch up for five whole days.

I'm so proud of us, babe. It's hard, but we're doing so well. And today, we've officially reached halfway. Now every day is just one day closer to you being home.

I miss you. I can't wait to kiss your stupid face when I see you next week. I love you to the moon and back.

Even xxx