Dorky Dancing: Chapter 8

While Sören felt a bit self-conscious about it - not wanting to be too needy - he couldn't help feeling giddy all day Monday, looking forward to Anthony's call and hearing his voice again. He was excited about making plans to spend more time with Anthony. The weekend had really been something special, with good company and the hottest sex Sören had ever had. He definitely wanted to do it again. He knew it was a bit soon to be thinking this way, but he was hoping they would work out long-term, he thought they had a lot of potential.

So when it became evening and Sören was back home from the studio and Anthony hadn't called yet like he said he would, Sören began to feel that sinking sense of doom.

At first, Sören chalked up the lateness of the phone call to Anthony's work schedule - maybe he had a case or two at the vet clinic that took more time than expected - and Sören figured Anthony probably needed at least an hour or two when he got home to decompress before he could do something like make a phone call.

But as the evening wore on, it became apparent it wasn't just work running late and either Anthony forgot entirely - which was a bad sign - or worse, Anthony had ghosted him.

Sören's mind ran wild with the reasons why Anthony would ghost him. Sören had seen enough cis gay guys be shitty to gay trans men - and calling the handful of gay-identified men attracted to them bisexual instead of gay - on Reddit and other places online, not to mention in real life at gay clubs, that he wondered if Anthony was having an identity crisis, questioning whether this made him "straight" or "bi" now, and was freaking out. It didn't help that Anthony's bullies had assumed Sören was female - Sören reasoned with himself that he had long hair and they saw him from the back, but he also knew Anthony might now be considering the kind of assumptions and remarks other people would make in the future.

Sören also wondered if - even though he'd tested to make sure Anthony wasn't too high to consent - the marijuana had lowered Anthony's inhibitions enough that he was less picky about what Sören had downstairs, and now that the weed had cleared his system and he was sober again, Anthony might be less into it.

But it was harder to think that the passion between them had been a lie, and Sören remembered Anthony saying he'd done research and had fantasized about fucking him while stone sober. So maybe it wasn't that - though Sören wasn't entirely sure. Maybe Anthony thought about the future and missing cis cock too much, even as they hadn't talked about exclusivity, and it wasn't something Sören required, only honesty.

Sören thought about the way the bullies had hit his berserk button, and he'd impulsively snapped into action, threatening to fight all three of them, not thinking about the risk to himself. Anthony was a veterinarian, he treated sick and injured animals, some of whom got that way by unknowingly doing something dangerous. Even though Sören had explained he normally wasn't like that, Anthony might be wondering if there was the chance it would happen again, and might be thinking he was too reckless.

Or it might be their age difference. Sören was twenty-seven, Anthony was forty-three. They were both consenting adults, and had met as adults. But they were still from different generations which had shaped their worldviews and values differently, and they were at two different places in their lives, and while Sören liked being with an older, more mature and settled, stable man, Anthony might be thinking about the logistics and writing him off as one of the "kids these days" who still had growing up to do.

Whatever it was, it kept Sören awake when he finally went to bed. He had thought off and on about taking the initiative and just calling Anthony - maybe something was wrong, after all - but he felt it would make him look too desperate. So he lay there with his mind continuing to spin different scenarios about why he was being ghosted, and at the eye of the storm Sören told himself: You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. If there was one thing Sören had figured out at an early age, that had stayed consistent all these years, it was that people were guaranteed to disappoint and hurt him somehow - only his friend Yeyette hadn't betrayed him - and he had to make his own happiness in life rather than relying on other people to give it to him.

But that didn't make it less lonely.

And after a wonderful weekend of companionship, cuddling, and lovemaking, the loneliness ached all the more. He'd had a taste of letting someone in, the queer-bros-love he'd been hungering for, and now it was going up in ash and smoke.




Sören was agitated enough that he didn't get to sleep until late, and had a restless few hours. He was tired and grouchy when he arrived at the studio, but forced himself to fake cheer for the sake of his dance students who didn't deserve his foul mood.

Making himself pretend like everything was OK created an additional layer of exhaustion, and by the time it was noon and Sören had an hour-and-a-half break before his next class, Sören badly wanted a nap, not just to rest but to shut down emotionally. Going home and back would shorten that time, plus the added stress of navigating traffic. So once his before-break class was gone, Sören sat in a chair, closed his eyes, and tried to empty his mind.

Then he heard the door of the dance room open. He thought it was one of the students who'd maybe left something behind and was coming back to get it - and when he opened his eyes and looked up, there was Anthony.

Anthony had clearly walked across the plaza from the vet clinic, wearing his blue scrubs, looking more attractive than he had any right to. Anthony's hands were behind his back and he lowered his head with a sad little smile. Sören's mouth opened, feeling like he should say something and not knowing what to say - his stomach sinking with doom again, hoping this wasn't an in-person ghosting or bad news like one of his cats...

"I washed my phone," Anthony said. "It's sitting in a bowl of dry rice, which is why I didn't call you, and I didn't want to be creepy or bother you by driving to your house to tell you..." Anthony pulled out what was behind his back - a bouquet of a half-dozen fireflower roses, with baby's breath.

Even though it was harder for him to cry on T, tears of relief stung Sören's eyes. He held out his arms and Anthony marched forward and hugged him tight. "I thought you ghosted me," Sören sobbed into Anthony's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. No Sören, I was just a dumbass and forgot to take out my bloody cell phone from my jeans pocket before I started a load of laundry..."

Hysterical laughter bubbled out of Sören, and then he clapped his hand over his mouth, not wanting Anthony to feel embarrassed. But then Anthony laughed with him, turning beetroot, and Sören felt those flutters at the way Anthony's face lit up and his eyes crinkled.

Sören accepted the flowers, though it was going to be another six hours before he'd be able to go home. He walked over to the mini-fridge, found a 20-ounce bottle of Sprite, and a large aqua green Taco Bell plastic cup sitting atop the fridge that served as an informal tip jar. He quickly poured some Sprite into the cup, put the flowers in Sprite, then offered Anthony the open bottle. They each took a few swigs and Sören glanced over at the flowers and felt the tears coming on again, touched by the thoughtful gesture. "Thank you for the roses," Sören said. "They're beautiful." He stroked Anthony's cheek. "You're beautiful." Then the dam broke and Sören's jaw quivered.

"Oh, sweetheart." Anthony took Sören's face in his hands and kissed him hard and deep. Sören melted into the kiss, pulling Anthony against him and holding him tight, kissing him back with all the fire of his being.

"I'm really sorry you thought I ghosted you. I should have given you my e-mail when I gave you my phone number..."

"It's OK. We can exchange e-mails before you go." Sören tried to get it together and stop crying. "I'm sorry I assumed the worst."

"We both have baggage," Anthony said, nodding. "But I'm willing to try, if you are." Anthony smiled and brushed an errant curl away from Sören's brow. "I..." He cleared his throat. "I know this might be a bit soon, but I like you a lot, like, a lot, and I'd like you to be my boyfriend. If you want to bring Snúður and spend this weekend with me and the cats, and if that goes well, then maybe we can visit during the week and spend weekends together and... and see where it goes. I'm an old fart so I can't keep up with stuff like going to nightclubs or whatever gay couples are supposed to do together these days, but -"

Sören initiated the kiss this time, his heart soaring. The passionate, sensual kiss made Sören feel that stirring down below, getting hard and wet for him. He also felt like crying again with more relief, and joy. To keep himself from bawling, he ribbed Anthony a little. "Hi An Old Fart So I Can't Keep -"

Anthony smacked Sören's ass, and Sören moaned, cunt twinging. Delicious mental images of Anthony taking him over his knee for a spanking fueled Sören's lust even hotter. They kissed again, then Sören answered him seriously. "Yes, Anthony, I'd like that, I think I'm catching feelings too." Then Sören gave him a naughty look. "I want you to be my Daddy."

"Oh, baby boy." Their mouths crushed together again; Anthony cupped Sören's ass, squeezed, rubbed, and gave it another smack.

They kissed and kissed, fierce and hungry. Sören found his hands wandering over Anthony's strong arms, over his chest... feeling Anthony's nipples harden under his touch through the thin fabric of his scrub top.

That wasn't all that was hard. Sören's hand slid down to slowly, teasingly rub the hard bulge in Anthony's scrub pants. "What do we have here?"

Anthony smirked. He started kissing Sören's neck; Sören gasped and instinctively thrust his hips forward, pressing his cunt against Anthony's hard cock. Anthony's thumb traced Sören's lips as he asked, "I have to go back to the clinic at one. How long do we have before your next class?"

"One-thirty."

"Bang-on." Anthony licked Sören's neck, making Sören moan and tremble. He guided Sören's hands to the hem of his shirt and together they pulled it off and over Anthony's head. Sören sighed with appreciation at the hairy chest and ran his fingers through the chest hair.

They quickly undressed, clothes falling in a haphazard pile on the floor. Anthony took Sören's hair out of its man bun, and played with Sören's loose curls a little. "Much better," he husked.

Then they resumed kissing, running their hands over each other's naked bodies. After several sensual, delicious kisses, Anthony turned Sören to face the wall of mirrors and stood behind him, kissing and licking Sören's neck as his hands slid down Sören's torso and back up. "You are so fucking gorgeous," Anthony whispered. "You have no idea how much I want you." His hard cock rubbed in the crack of Sören's ass.

Sören giggled, his cunt throbbing at the feel of Anthony's cock rubbing against him. "I think I have some idea."

Anthony stuck his right index and middle finger in Sören's mouth, as his left hand reached between Sören's legs to caress his hard clit, right there in the mirror. Anthony continued kissing and licking Sören's neck, and the look of lust on his face drove Sören wild. Sören rocked his hips, fucking himself on Anthony's fingers. "Daddy," he moaned.

There were mats on the floor in front of the mirror wall, for warmup exercises. Anthony and Sören tumbled down on one of them, kissing each other feverishly. Anthony rolled onto his back and patted his shoulders. "Sit on Daddy's face, baby, I am dying to taste you again."

Sören grinned as he straddled Anthony's shoulders. "Hi Dying To Taste You Again, I'm... ohhhh fuckkkkk."

Anthony slapped Sören's ass and took Sören's clit right in his mouth, sucking greedily. Sören gently rolled his hips, losing himself in the pleasure of Anthony sucking his clit just like it was a cock. Anthony moaned with his mouth full, and it wasn't long before Sören was moaning too, even as he tried to keep it down to not alert the rest of the studio to what they were doing.

Anthony sucked and sucked, hands caressing Sören's chest and stomach and thighs, until Sören was trembling, his breath in shaky gasps. When Anthony's tongue slipped inside him, Sören almost climaxed. Anthony tongue-fucked him, while he took Sören's clit between the V of his fingers, squeezing and tugging it back and forth, teasing him to frenzy. "You taste so good, baby." Anthony lapped at Sören's swollen, aching clit, then a few more licks inside him, then his tongue was on Sören's clit again. "I could do this to you for hours."

Sören grunted with appreciation. He had a feeling they were going to have a most enjoyable weekend. Unfortunately, they didn't have hours today. And as good as Anthony's tongue felt, Sören knew they didn't have all afternoon and he desperately wanted to feel Anthony inside him again. "Daddy, can I ride your cock again?"

"Of course, baby."

Sören scooted back. Feeling mischievous, he let himself grind on Anthony's cock for a moment, rubbing up and down the shaft, teasing both of them. He took Anthony's cock in hand and guided the tip to his clit, brushing it. Anthony groaned and Sören moaned, feeling his cunt throb, cream dripping. When he couldn't take it anymore he let go, got in position, and sank down, Anthony's cock pushing inside him to the hilt.

Sören needed a moment to adjust to the fullness of him - a tender moment where Anthony reached up to touch Sören's face, smiling, and Sören rested a hand on Anthony's heart.

Then he began to ride, working his hips back and forth, up and down. Anthony growled. "Good boy," Anthony said.

Sören grabbed onto Anthony's shoulders, bucking harder, loving the way that cock stroked inside him. "Oh Daddy, I love your big cock..."

"You feel so fucking good." Anthony shuddered.

Sören rode with abandon, going wild with lust and sensation. After awhile he moved his hips in circles and every few thrusts he clenched his inner muscles to tease Anthony some more. Then Anthony smacked his ass - almost making him come - grabbed onto Sören's hips and rocked his own furiously, balls slapping against Sören as he made Sören bounce on his cock. Sören whimpered and frantically rubbed his clit, getting closer.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw their reflection in the mirrors, breathtaking in its debauchery. Anthony glanced over and his hands slid up from Sören's hips, caressing down Sören's torso and thighs. "We look hot together."

"Fuck yeah, we do." Sören felt his cream dripping as he got a better look in the mirror, then his gaze focused on Anthony laying on the mat, heat in his eyes as he pounded away.

"You're beautiful," Anthony whispered, right hand touching Sören's face, then his fingers brushed Sören's lips. When Sören began sucking his fingers Anthony growled again, and the fingers of his left hand rubbed at Sören's clit.

Sören edged, getting closer and closer to orgasm but holding back, wanting to keep feeling the sweet rhythm of Anthony's cock inside him and Anthony's fingers on his clit, watching Anthony's body moving underneath his, the smoulder on his face as he took what was his now. Sören tried to keep from moaning too loudly but the slap of their flesh and wet suctioning sound of their fuck was deliciously filthy, intensifying his excitement.

At last it was too good - all that existed was pleasure - and Sören gave in, coming with a cry. Two thrusts later Anthony made a strangled sound and a shaky gasp as he spent, and Sören moaned at the feel of Anthony spilling inside him.

Sören leaned down and they kissed. Anthony's arms wrapped around Sören and he pulled Sören against his chest, the kiss deepening.

"Thank you," Anthony said softly. His face lit up. "That made my day. That made my entire month, honestly."

"Same." Sören giggled. Then he sighed with contentment and relief. "Thank you for giving us a chance."

Anthony squeezed him and gave him a little kiss. "Thank you for being worth taking a chance on, luv."

Sören rested with his head on Anthony's chest, listening to his heartbeat as he came down from his climax, feeling the tension wash away. Feeling at perfect peace.

Feeling safe.

Anthony might not have "won" against his bullies at the reunion, but he'd won Sören's heart.

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