"Aw, man..."
Anthony scowls at the slot machine, which had three matching glyphs - cherries - and the fourth just came up grapes. He was so close.
They're spending two full days and two nights in Vegas, the first day to gamble, the second day to see KISS and they also have a package for a gondola ride and Madame Tussaud's wax museum. They all mutually agree to not spend more than $200 each at the casino and stick to slot machines - seeking out older games with lower minimum bets and smaller payouts to make the money last longer. Anthony knew going in he probably wouldn't win anything, but he still feels frustrated at the win being dangled just out of his reach.
Then he hears a very loud "WOO-HOO!" a few feet away - Maglor. Anthony glances over and watches a bunch of tokens pour out of the machine Mark is on. Anthony narrows his eyes.
Their waiter comes over with another free margarita for Mark, with a little umbrella in it. Mark tips him and then mumbles something to him, and a minute later both Anthony and Sören, who are on slot machines next to each other, are being handed margaritas with umbrellas in plastic shot glasses too. Just in time for Sören to let off a string of expletives in Icelandic as he watches his own slot machine come up with three 7s and a strawberry.
Anthony reaches over and pats him, once again annoyed with himself for finding Sören's lapses into Icelandic incredibly sexy. Then he looks back over at Mark, who flashes them a grin before he pulls the lever on his machine.
A few turns later, there is another set of bells going off and the tinkling sound of tokens cascading. "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Mark yells.
Anthony is happy for his mate, but it makes the next three-out-of-four that much more frustrating. "Come on, you sorry sack of shite," Anthony says, and gives the machine a good whack.
The waiter comes back over with free margaritas - he gives Anthony two, with a sympathetic smile.
Anthony downs them quickly. "Here," Sören says. He takes a single sip of his margarita and passes it over. "My cooties, for luck."
Anthony stops himself from saying I could just kiss you if you wanted to share mouth germs, face on fire. He knocks back Sören's margarita. He's already feeling a buzz and he knows he's had enough, but it'll be hard to pass up more free drinks when they come around, so he hopes he can actually win something soon and give himself an excuse to leave, maybe hit the spa.
Anthony rubs his hands together, exhales, and pulls the lever. He watches a seven roll, then another seven, then another seven... then another.
Tokens flood out of the machine. Anthony raises his arms in victory. "FUCK YES!"
Sören giggles. The tokens keep coming - Anthony's eyes widen, realizing he won bigger than Mark's two winnings combined. The waiter comes over with yet another margarita and a couple large pails for Anthony to collect the tokens; Anthony has a bucket but it's not big enough.
"Holy shit." Sören lets out a low whistle once the tokens stop and Anthony scoops huge piles into a pail.
Mark wanders over, applauding. "I'm gonna take a break to stretch my legs and get some air. You want to keep going, or -"
"I should cash out." Anthony nods. "This looks like more than the two hundred dollars I brought to gamble away, a little extra money might come in handy on our trip."
Then Anthony stands up and he feels that rush to his head. The colors of the casino are brighter, and he's tipsy enough that he can see through Mark's glamour; the floor seems like it's undulating slightly. Mark reaches out to steady him, and Anthony leans on him for a moment, savoring the closeness.
"I'll come with you," Sören says, standing up and stretching. "I didn't win anything and I probably won't."
"Awwwwww." Anthony affectionately tousles Sören's curls and fights back the urge to offer Sören a kiss - or something else - as a consolation prize.
As they walk over to the counter where Anthony and Mark can exchange their tokens for money, each step feels like he's on a swing. Sören takes one of Anthony's pails so it doesn't spill everywhere, and Mark puts an arm around him.
Anthony glances at Mark's pail, and gives into curiosity through ósanwe, rude or not. Did you... use the Song to... fuck with the slots? He knows it could be coincidence, but this is Maglor.
Mark looks off to the side. Yeah. Just for mine, though. And it's not something I can do very often because it calls too much attention to myself. Aloud, he says, "You had pure luck."
"Well, I feel lucky today." Anthony feels giddy, not able to stop laughing. As he watches the tokens add up, Sören catches his eye, pacing back and forth - Anthony stares at Sören's ass.
They have a two-bedroom suite at Caesars Palace, with a jacuzzi - they'd decided if they were going to do Vegas, they were going to go big - and Anthony thinks about inviting Sören into the jacuzzi with them when they get back to the hotel. Then he balks, even though the alcohol has given him a shot of courage - he still doesn't feel ready to confess his feelings, and he worries Sören might think it's the alcohol talking rather than any genuine desire.
But it's tempting. Too tempting. The kind of intense, moth-to-a-flame feelings that only another fire can satisfy - a big, explosive distraction. Once the tokens come to five hundred dollars, the idea comes to him. "Mark?"
"Hm?"
"Let's get married."
Mark throws his head back and laughs. "Anthony, you're drunk."
"I'm tipsy, not drunk -"
"Hi Tipsy Not Drunk," Sören chimes in.
Anthony elbows him. "Shut it, you." He quickly resumes justifying the snap decision to Mark. "We're already engaged. It's not like we're two strangers drowning our sorrows and settling for each other. And we've got our best man right here." Anthony throws an arm around Sören and gives him noogies.
"Right, but..." Mark takes a deep breath. "Your daughter."
"Right." Anthony nods. "Well... you and I both know bloody Steve won't let Rhi fly out for the wedding so long as he has custody, and waiting another two years until she's sixteen and the courts let her choose which parent she wants to live with... feels too long. And I'm sure she'd be thrilled if we sent her pics or a vid of us getting married by Elvis." Anthony tugs on Mark's sleeve. "Come on, Mark. Come on. Come onnnn..."
Mark belly-laughs again, then he boops Anthony's nose. "All right." Mark cocks his head at Sören. "Do you have any objections?"
"Only to putting on a suit again, especially in this fucking heat." Sören folds his arms and makes a face.
Anthony looks down - he and Mark are both wearing Hawaiian shirts - and Sören is wearing a black shirt with flames on it reminiscent of Guy Fieri's famous attire. "I think we're decent enough as-is."
Mark laughs harder. "I can't believe we're about to go see Elvis to get married while wearing Hawaiian shirts."
"Stranger things have happened." Like an Elven prince walking among mortals in Las Vegas and cheating at slots.
It wasn't cheating, I didn't rig anyone else to lose so I could win. It was just giving the machine a little push, in case we needed extra money for something. Mark grins, and says aloud, "I'll use my winnings to pay for the ceremony."
It's extremely fast to get a marriage license in Vegas and from there, walk in to the chapel and wait for the next available spot with an Elvis impersonator officiant, and pick out wedding rings to purchase while they wait.
Anthony is all butterflies. He wants to do this. He wants to make this formal commitment to Mark. He's more excited than nervous, but the nerves are still there - they're taking an oath. To many people it may be "just a piece of paper" but for the House of Finwë, oaths have far-reaching consequences.
The ridiculousness of the ceremony helps take the edge off. The Elvis impersonator is uncannily true to life, and as "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You" plays on an organ, with Elvis singing the first couple verses, Anthony and Mark walk down the aisle together.
"Thank you, thank you very much," Elvis drawls. "Welcome, everyone. Today we gather here to celebrate the marriage of Mark Lauer and Anthony Hewlett-Johnson. How about a round of applause for these two?"
It's just Sören and the organ player, but they applaud vigorously. Sören whistles, then has a coughing fit from long COVID.
"You two, today is about making a promise. A promise to cherish and support one another, through good and bad times, to stay honest and true. Are you ready?"
Anthony and Mark look at each other and nod.
Mark is told to repeat after Elvis first. Taking Anthony's hands in his, Mark says:
I promise to never step on your blue suede shoes,
Or treat you like a fool.
I promise to love you tender,
And never return to sender.
You light my morning sky,
With burning love.
I'm just a hunk, a hunk of burning love for you.
Sören snickers, and Mark is trying very hard to keep a straight face and failing at it, shaking with silent laughter. Through ósanwe, Anthony takes the obvious shot. A hunk of burning love? I guess that apple doesn't fall far from the tree -
Mark rolls his eyes and grins. Yeah, yeah.
It's Anthony's turn.
I promise to never leave you in Heartbreak Hotel,
Or be nothin' but a hound dog.
I promise to love you tender, and love you sweet,
And never let you go.
You have made my life complete,
And I promise to always love you so.
Because your kisses lift me higher,
Like the sweet song of a choir.
Anthony can't help chuckling at that last line, thinking of Maglor's voice and his songs. Mark guffaws too, but the moment isn't all silliness, as Mark squeezes his hands and looks at him with a softness in his eyes that makes Anthony melt.
Elvis turns to Sören and the organ player. "If there be any suspicious minds present in the audience don'tcha think it's time to speak now or never - their love won't wait."
Sören opens his mouth just slightly and Anthony's butterflies turn to ice, but then Sören smiles, his eyes too bright, and gives two thumbs up. Then he comes over with their wedding rings. Elvis takes the rings from Sören and offers them to Mark and Anthony.
Elvis says, "These rings symbolize the promise of lasting marriage and your devotion to each other. Like a fountain of love, flowing endlessly, these rings and the love they represent will nourish you, in this life and the next."
Anthony thinks about his secret wedding ring to Maglor, made by Fëanor himself - after everything, sent by white raven across realms to Finrod because the reminder was too painful. He wonders where the Ring of Barahir is now. He knows it probably doesn't matter.
It feels wrong that polygamy is illegal, that Sören can't join them now, but of course neither of them has had that talk with Sören yet. In time.
Here and now... Anthony feels that frisson as he thinks of the past and all that was lost - finding each other again, getting a second chance.
"By the power invested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss, and y'all give it up for the newlyweds!"
Sören cheers madly as the organ player begins "Love Me Tender" and Elvis croons along... and Anthony and Mark kiss like it's the first time, like it's the last time, past, present and future colliding, thousands of years of longing and hunger.
When they pull apart, breathless, Elvis says, "Thank you, thank you very much."
Elvis strikes a pose with fingerguns and a near-split before he walks out, and the organ player calls after him, "Elvis has left the building."
After the wedding and going out to dinner to celebrate, Sören hits Caesar Palace's spa, giving Anthony and Mark some alone time in the suite. Anthony and Mark quickly shuck their clothing and sit in the jacuzzi, drinking champagne. Anthony is definitely tipsier now.
But not too intoxicated to know what's going on. Not too intoxicated to know what he wants, and right now what he wants is Mark.
They kiss between sips of champagne, and when their glasses are almost down to the dregs, Anthony pours what's left of his champagne onto Mark's neck, watching the liquid roll over Mark's chest, down to his nipples. Anthony cleans it with his tongue, licking at Mark's neck, his sternum, his pecs, leaning in to lap at one nipple, then the other. Mark does the same, pouring his champagne over Anthony's throat and chest, chasing the rolling drops with long, slow strokes of his tongue, kissing and nipping here and there with his teeth.
They get out of the jacuzzi, playfully towel each other off as the tub drains, then make their way to the bed, kissing, caressing. Mark lays back and Anthony climbs over him.
They resume kissing, running their hands over each other. Feverishly, Mark gets out their pump and they take turns pumping each other's cocks to full hardness. Then with a deep, passionate kiss Anthony takes his husband, slipping inside him. Mark's breath hitches and Anthony moans at the feel of those silken walls embracing his cock.
Anthony glides in and out, breathing harder, his thighs quivering as Mark's cunt kisses his cock again and again. After a couple dozen strokes he lets his cock slide against Mark's cock, teasing them both, the licking of their tongues mirroring cock rubbing cock. Then Anthony is inside Mark again, making Mark moan and gasp with pleasure, hearing his own grunts and growls in response.
It doesn't take long before Mark is bucking madly underneath him and Anthony rocks his hips hard and fast, the wet smacking, slurping sounds of cock fucking cunt, cock fucking cock, driving them both out of their minds with lust, the pleasure more and more intense. Mark clings, swearing in Quenya, and Anthony bites his neck and thrusts his hips as hard as he can, fucking, possessing, claiming, until Mark gets that look in his eye and Anthony knows he's right there.
Their eyes lock and Anthony grabs a handful of Mark's hair. "Come for me, melmenya."
"Arafinwë!" Mark's eyes roll back and he shudders.
The feel of Mark contracting against him makes Anthony come too, squirting into Mark's cunt with a deep groan. Mark spasms again, clutching at him.
They lay there entwined, petting each other as they come down. They rub noses and give each other sweet, soft little kisses... then deeper ones. After a few of those kisses, Anthony rolls onto his back, pulling Mark atop him, and sighs as Mark fits inside him, Mark's cock slowly working in and out like a finger.
"I love you, vanimelda, melmenya," Mark whispers. "My husband."
"I love you, husband." Anthony reaches up to stroke Mark's cheek; Mark leans into his touch with that smile that still makes him weak after all this time.
They kiss again, and again, as Anthony gives himself, just as he took before. They lose themselves in pleasure and lust... that delicious feeling of closeness and connection, loving and being loved.
That feeling of belonging. Of coming home.
The next day Anthony wakes up with a mild headache - not the worst hangover he's ever had, but definitely a sign that he overindulged just a bit yesterday.
And still, he has no regrets. He would marry Mark again, stone sober.
Mark rains kisses over his face. "Good morning, husband."
Anthony strokes Mark's face and hair, and affectionately tweaks the pointy tip of Mark's right ear. "I love you."
They kiss, and a few kisses later they reach down and play with each other. Anthony brings his slick fingers to Mark's lips and Mark tastes his juices, licking and sucking Anthony's fingers, then Anthony does the same, sucking Mark's fingers sensually. They kiss open-mouthed, tongues teasing, and then they get into a sixty-nine, spending their first morning of married life licking, sucking and finger-fucking until they climax together.
After their orgasm, they kiss again, sharing their combined essence, and then Anthony snuggles into Mark's shoulder - the orgasm has lessened the headache a little but there's still a dull ache. Mark kisses Anthony's brow and starts massaging Anthony's scalp and neck and Anthony feels warmth increasing in Mark's hand, Mark's fingers tingling, pulsing and vibrating slightly. Everything gets brighter, Anthony closes his eyes, and a moment later the headache is gone.
"Thank you," Anthony mumbles.
Mark nuzzles him and smiles.
Even though Anthony's headache is gone, he still feels overstimulated at the KISS concert. But it's something he's doing for Mark, who hasn't seen KISS perform since the 80s - not that they're going to tell Sören that, anytime soon - and Mark's exuberance makes up for the sensory overload, Anthony loves to see him so happy.
The gondola ride through the Venetian's Grand Canal, by contrast, is relaxing, though Anthony thinks Mark has a better voice than the singing gondola driver. Sören had been looking forward to the gondola tour more than anything else in Vegas, including the gambling, and yet he seems listless today, staring off into space or looking down, brooding. Anthony considers if it's a hangover but unless Sören had more to drink at the spa, he doubts it, since Sören drank less than he did at the casino. This seems... like something else.
That suspicion grows once they're at Madame Tussaud's looking at the wax figures and Sören has absolutely no snarky remarks to make about Twilight with Robert Pattinson's statue, or about the Kardashian family with the statues of Kim Kardashian and Kendall Jenner, not even cracks about Justin Bieber or Michael Jackson. Mark does an impression of Michael Jackson, moonwalking, then grabbing his crotch and giving a good "hee-hee, shamon, OW!" and Anthony laughs so hard he snorts; Mark gives him a nose kiss and says, "You're so cute," and Sören quickly excuses himself to the restroom. When Sören gets back, his eyes are red like he's been crying, and Anthony is pretty sure that wasn't from laughing at Mark's Michael Jackson bit.
Anthony keeps that concern to himself until he offers to treat everyone at Grand Lux Café and Sören says, "You guys can go ahead, I think I'll head back to the hotel and just... get room service or something."
Anthony puts a hand on Sören's shoulder. "Hey. What's wrong?"
"...Nothing." Sören looks away.
Anthony tweaks Sören's nose, then he puts his hands on his hips. He quickly glances around - there's a lot of people out here on the Venetian Strip, and this probably isn't the best place for a private conversation about whatever the problem is. "OK, tell you what. Let's go back to the hotel, all three of us, and you can tell me what's going on - like if you got triggered or something..." He thinks of Sören going to the spa last night and hopes nobody harassed him if they saw he's had top surgery. "And we can figure out food later. OK?"
Mark nods, and Sören says nothing, but he goes along with them back to their suite at Caesars Palace.
By the time they get to their suite, Sören is in tears again, though he's trying to fight it. Anthony gives Sören a fierce, tight hug immediately; Mark walks over to get a box of tissues and then starts dabbing at Sören's face.
"Oh, honey," Mark says, giving Sören a sympathetic look. Then in a Michael Jackson voice, he sings, "Boo-hoo. Boo-hoo," while continuing to wipe Sören's tears.
Sören sobs harder.
Mark's eyes widen with alarm and he stops wiping. "Oh god. I was trying to make you laugh, I wasn't making fun -"
"I know," Sören chokes out. "Dammit. I'm sorry. I'm -"
"Hey." Anthony pulls him close and starts rocking him, letting Sören fall apart on his shoulder... holding back his own tears, hurting for him, wishing there was something, anything he could do to fix this. "No need to apologize."
"You just got married and this is like... your honeymoon... and I'm ruining it -"
"No, Sören, no." Anthony picks Sören's chin up, and while Sören's chin is still cupped in his hand, he looks Sören in the eye. The sadness in Sören's eyes breaks his heart all over again. "You're not."
"We're here for you, whatever it is," Mark says, petting Sören's curls. "We got you, OK?"
Mark and Anthony walk Sören over to the couch. Mark sits next to him and Anthony kneels before him. "Tell us what's going on," Anthony says. "No bullshit. Even if it's something we did and we fucked up somehow, we'll try to make it right."
Sören takes a deep breath. "You didn't do anything wrong, Anthony. Well..." Sören looks up at the ceiling and his shoulders heave with a sigh. "Let me rephrase that. It wasn't so much that you did anything wrong, but..."
"But." Anthony braces himself, hoping he or Mark didn't put their foot in it, or perhaps the wedding was like rubbing salt in the wound, thinking about the way Sören got rejected by that guy in Nashville...
Sören looks at him. "OK. I'm worried that saying this is gonna fuck up our friendship, but I can't keep it in anymore."
"Ohgod." Anthony's stomach turns to ice. He feels like he can't breathe, worried sick that he said or did something inadvertently rude or triggering that's been a festering wound all this time.
"Anthony, I've been in love with you since you were my transition mentor, and..." Sören looks over at Mark. "After I got to know Mark, I fell in love with him too. I love both of you and I..." Sören's voice trails off and he starts crying again.
Anthony blinks, stunned. Of all the confessions Sören could have made about what was wrong, he wasn't expecting that. He'd guessed Sören had feelings for Mark, but...
...his feelings for Sören were mutual.
He'd been pining, and saying nothing, for years.
Anthony moves in, grabs Sören's face, and kisses him fiercely. Sören's eyes widen and then he responds to the kiss, the two of them kissing with all the fire they've been holding back for so long. Anthony kisses him again, and Sören kisses him back, kissing and kissing until they're breathless.
Then Mark kisses Sören. Anthony's cunt throbs as he watches them kissing, so hot together, especially when they kiss open-mouthed, tongues playing, teasing.
When they pull apart, Sören's eyes are glittering and his cheeks are flushed. Anthony can't think of what to say, but Mark finds words. "We both love you, too," Mark says, and Anthony nods vehemently. "We were planning on telling you by or before we got to California, in case it fucked everything up, so we weren't all being awkward on the way to Alaska."
"I was going to tell you last night and then you got married," Sören says, "and I felt like my window of opportunity had closed -"
"Oh sweetheart." Anthony kisses Sören again. "Baby, I've loved you for that long too, and I wish I hadn't been an idiot and had just fucking told you."
"Well..." Sören smirks. "I didn't say anything either, so we're both idiots."
"We're all idiots," Mark says. He frowns. "It's really too bad polygamy isn't legal, we could have married you, too."
Sören's smirk becomes a naughty smile. "You can be my daddies."
Anthony almost comes in his pants untouched. He kisses Sören even harder. Before he can rip Sören's clothes off and maul him right on the couch, Mark picks Sören up and carries him to their bedroom, with Sören giggling madly. Anthony follows, starting to undress on the way there.
Once they're all naked, Anthony once again almost comes, cunt throbbing as he gets a good look at Sören. Sören is lithe but has a little too much hair on his arms and legs to be a twink. His bush is as wild and lush as the curls on his head. His cunt lips are meaty, hanging low like a little scrotum, and his inch-and-a-half cock is standing at attention.
Anthony wants to fuck that cock, conquer it, make it come and come and come, make it his.
But he wants to do everything. He feels like he's at a banquet and every course looks delicious, impossible to decide.
They take turns kissing each other, hands exploring as they make their way to the bed. Sören lays back against the pillows and Anthony and Mark climb over him, kissing him in turn, then each other, and through the haze of his lust Anthony figures out where to begin. They've been wanting each other for so long that as badly as Anthony wants to fuck him, he wants to worship Sören first, express all of those years of longing, feelings burning hotter and hotter, by spoiling Sören with touch, loving every inch of him.
Sharing him with Mark, theirs to play with together.
Mark and Anthony start by kissing, licking and nibbling Sören's neck and shoulders. Anthony thrills to the sound of Sören's moans. Then Sören giggles adorably and moans louder when they lick his sweaty armpits. Anthony's tongue traces the flames on Sören's right arm, as Mark licks the ocean waves on Sören's left arm. They feast on his pierced nipples together, lapping, suckling hard, making Sören clutch at the sheets as he writhes, panting, whimpering. The sight of Mark's tongue lashing away at Sören's left nipple, then the way his lips latch onto it and tug hard, makes Anthony's juices drip down his thighs. They tease and tease his nipples into long, thick peaks, until Sören's breath is in shuddery gasps and his eyes are feverish. Anthony lightly bites Sören's nipple and sucks as hard as he can, aching to fuck him... but they've only just begun.
Anthony and Mark's tongues and fingers play over Sören's stomach, hips and thighs. Anthony delights in how sensitive Sören is, the gasps and sighs, Sören pulling on the sheets. Anthony enjoys watching Mark lick, kiss and caress Sören's body, one of the most erotic things he's ever witnessed. Every now and again Anthony and Mark kiss, and Sören moans as he watches them. "You guys are so fucking hot together," Sören purrs.
"You are fucking hot." Anthony nibbles at Sören's stomach, then takes another long, slow lick. "You are so beautiful."
"You are a work of art," Mark whispers, taking a nip at Sören's thigh. Sören cries out and Anthony can smell Sören's arousal, driving him out of his mind.
He needs to taste, not just smell. He rubs his nose in Sören's bush, and groans at the sight of Sören's erect little nub pulsing with anticipation, the thick cream pooling from his cunt, slicking his thighs, making a wet spot underneath. Anthony lovingly strokes Sören's t-dick with his index finger and smiles at him. "I like your bottom growth."
Sören wrinkles his nose and bites his lower lip. "It likes you."
Anthony laughs, pleased by that answer. He replaces his finger with his tongue, licking a slow, deliberate stripe down Sören's cock, and back up. Another slow lick and another. He can't believe that after fantasizing about this for years, it's finally a reality. He can't believe he could have done this years ago if only he'd asked.
He needs to make up for all that lost time, starving for it.
Anthony keeps licking, ever so slowly, savoring the salt-sweet-musk of the man he's loved for so long. As badly as he's aching to fuck and come, he wants to make this good for Sören. He watches Mark and Sören kiss as his tongue lowly brushes up and down Sören's cock, lightly flutters at the tip, then takes slow swipes at the tip, Sören moaning into Mark's kisses. After a few more licks, Mark moves down to work on Sören's nipples some more, licking at one as his thumb rolls and rubs the other, then sucking hard, pulling on it with his lips. Mark goes back and forth between them, playing with one nipple as he laps and suckles the other, and Anthony resists the urge to reach down and touch himself, knowing he'll pop off right away.
When Mark nibbles on Sören's nipples it's too much - Anthony is dangerously close to climax - and he grabs Mark by the hair and pulls him down. "Here, join me," Anthony says.
With that, Anthony's tongue lashes away at Sören's cock, and Mark moves in to dip his tongue inside Sören's cunt. Sören bucks and cries out. Anthony takes Sören's nub into his mouth, sucking hard, slurping at it, while Mark tongue-fucks him. Sören swears in Icelandic, pulling on the sheets as he writhes back and forth, rocks his hips, panting, gasping for breath. Anthony keeps sucking, and Mark works his tongue hard and fast... then slows down, teasing him. Anthony teases too, taking another long, slow lick at Sören's cock before he turns his face to Mark's. They kiss deeply, with Sören watching, then they kiss open-mouthed, tongues rubbing together, making streamers with Sören's cream. Sören lets out a frustrated howl through clenched teeth and Anthony and Mark kiss again just to tease him even more.
Then they dive back in, Anthony sucking hard at Sören's cock as Mark's tongue rubs inside Sören's cunt, making wet squelching sounds. When Anthony can feel Sören getting close, thighs tense and quivering, he and Mark kiss again, sharing Sören's juices, tongues playing. Sören whines and just for that they slow down, Anthony giving Sören's cock more slow strokes with his tongue, Mark's tongue making slow circles in Sören's inner walls. Sören gasps and whimpers, louder when they kiss again.
At last they give it their all, Anthony mashing his face into Sören's mound, sucking fiercely as Mark's tongue swirls fast and furious. Sören trembles, panting, and Anthony watches the flush spread over him. Sören gives in, almost sobbing as he contracts, his cream gushing. Anthony laps at Sören's fluttering, pulsing cunt and Mark pulls back, making a long streamer with his tongue. He and Mark share a passionate kiss, making a mess with Sören's cum, as Sören lays there catching his breath, his face lit up with joy. Anthony smiles at him fondly, thinking Sören has never been so beautiful as he is now in the throes of ecstasy.
Anthony touches Mark's face - he's never felt more close to Mark as he does now, the two of them discovering a whole new level of intimacy as they play with their new pet together. Mark smiles at him, then he glances back at Sören and says, "Our poor baby has waited so long for this, I think we should make him come again."
"I like how you think." Anthony grins.
Sören's laughter rings out. He spreads wider for them. "God, this is even better than my fantasies."
"Mine, too." Then a frisson goes through Anthony, thinking of Sören wanking off, thinking about them. He's so hard it's almost painful, and he can feel his juices dripping again.
But he needs to be a good daddy and take care of his boy, alone for so long. He and Mark get back between Sören's thighs. This time Mark laps at Sören's eager, hard nub while Anthony's tongue slips inside him. Sören's musk is even stronger all sloppy and sexed up, and Anthony sips at it as his tongue teases and pleasures Sören's inner walls. When he and Mark kiss, Mark makes a "mmmm" of appreciation.
"You taste good," Mark tells Sören before he gets back to licking him.
"So good." Anthony laps inside Sören.
Sören tries to respond but can't, making guttural noises. Anthony groans into him, licking harder.
Mark and Anthony kiss again a few moments later, tongues sensually rubbing, making another sloppy mess with Sören's cream, as Sören's breath hitches and he paws himself frantically, watching them. Anthony snatches Sören's hand away, then he sucks the juices from Sören's fingers before he dives back in, tongue-fucking him fast and hard. Mark makes filthy suctioning sounds as he sucks on Sören's clit, and Anthony almost comes as he feels Sören tensing, quivering, breath in ragged gasps, the cream almost pouring.
"Oh god, I'm gonna come, you're gonna make me fucking come again..." Sören's eyes roll back, then he lets out a strangled cry as Anthony feels Sören's walls grip his tongue, throbbing. Anthony moans and he and Mark lap up the flowing juices.
They come up to take turns kissing Sören, letting him taste himself, then they hold Sören between them - Mark spooning Sören, with Sören's head cradled against Anthony's chest - and they kiss, savoring every last drop of Sören's cream and the satisfaction of teamwork.
Anthony needs to come, feeling like he's going to explode. He contemplates whether he wants to take Mark aside, or wait for Sören to recharge. He decides it's more fair to Sören, who's been waiting so long for this, to decide what's next on the menu.
"What would you like, sweet boy?" Anthony kisses the tip of Sören's nose. "You want to come again?"
Sören nods, smiling. "Yes, please."
Mark smirks at Anthony. "If it's all right with you, I want to watch the two of you fuck."
Anthony shivers. The only thing hotter than his fantasy of fucking Sören fulfilled at last is for Mark to pleasure himself while he watches... or join in. "That's more than all right."
Mark moves off to the side and Sören lays back; Anthony climbs over him. Sören parts his thighs and bends his knees, and Anthony straddles him and maneuvers until their cunts are aligned. Then, as their cocks touch for the first time, Anthony kisses Sören deeply, and Sören returns the passion, kissing him back.
"I love you so much, sweetheart," Anthony whispers, touching Sören's face.
Sören leans into his touch with that shy yet radiant smile that takes Anthony's breath away. "Ég elska þig, elskan mín."
Anthony's eyes mist - Sören's native language has never sounded so beautiful before. Caught up in emotion he kisses Sören again. And again. And start to work his hips slowly, so their cunt lips are kissing, cock caressing cock.
"Oh, baby boy," Anthony murmurs into Sören's neck, almost undone by the feel of their most intimate skin fitting together. He kisses Sören's neck as his left thumb traces Sören's lips, licks and nibbles Sören's neck and shoulders as Sören sucks the first two fingers of his left hand, moaning with his mouth full.
Cock teases cock, finding that luscious rhythm up and down, side to side, slow circles, each stroke taking them deeper and deeper into pleasure. Anthony wants to make this last, wants to savor this first fuck with the man he's loved for so long... but then out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of Mark pawing himself, breath ragged as he watches them.
"You guys are fucking delicious," Mark rasps, then tilts his head back and lets out a moan, fingers rubbing his cock harder as he knows he's being watched.
Anthony goes wild, pressing into Sören's mound more firmly, rocking his hips harder, faster. "Daddy!" Sören moans, throwing his arms around Anthony, bucking his hips madly and giving it right back. "Daddy, Daddy!"
Their cunts smack together, making wet sloppy suctioning noises, cock fucking cock, rubbing together just right to bring them close to the edge, holding onto each other tightly, foreheads together, breathing each other's breath in shaky gasps as they rut like their lives depend on it. Mark's fingers and palm work himself so vigorously his cunt makes wet squishing noises, fueling Anthony's lust even hotter. Anthony and Sören moan together, and then kiss passionately as Anthony rubs as hard as he can, trembling, desperate to come but trying to hold back. Not just so Sören can come first, but to get every last second he can out of this, needing to keep feeling Sören's body against his, to keep feeling Sören's cock on his, rubbing, pleasing.
"Daddy, Pabbi, Daddy..." Sören's eyes widen and he bites his lip with a little whimper. "More, Daddy, so close, more..."
"Oh god, baby." Anthony groans and growls into the hollow where Sören's neck and shoulder meet, and kisses him there again. Sören calling him Daddy and begging for more is his weakness. He can feel himself rushing to that point of no return. He claims Sören's mouth again and Sören moans into the kiss, arms squeezing him tighter.
Then Sören's eyes roll back, he throws back his head and calls out, "Daddy! Daddy! Pabbi... Pabbi, Daddy!"
Anthony feels Sören's cunt spasming on his and Anthony comes hard, crying out as he squirts into Sören. Sören's nails rake Anthony's back and their cunts pulse together, hot cream gushing between them, both of them shaking and gasping for breath with the power of their release. Sören clutches Anthony's head and pulls him into a kiss and Anthony kisses Sören with all his might. Then he hears Mark's shout and they look over to watch Mark take his hand away from his contracting cunt, shuddering, eyes wild. Mark lets out a deep sigh and laughs with relief.
"Fuck, you guys are hot." Mark strokes his throbbing cock and brings his slick fingers to Sören's mouth to taste. After Sören licks and sucks them clean Mark strokes himself a little more and it's Anthony's turn. Anthony sucks Mark's fingers like he's sucking a cock, relishing Mark's juices - his musk tastes stronger than usual which is a sign he was much more aroused than usual.
That thought gets Anthony worked up again, but he needs awhile to recharge. Mark doesn't need as long - a few minutes later he's playing with himself again.
"Daddy..." Sören bats his lashes and gives Anthony an innocent look that isn't innocent at all. "Can I help him out with my tongue?"
"Yeah, pumpkin, go for it." Anthony tousles Sören's curls. He rolls off to the side and Sören crawls over to Mark - when Sören's ass is in his face Anthony gives it an affectionate slap. The way Sören moans gives Anthony that thrust in his loins again, but he still needs some time to recover from the shattering orgasm. He mentally files away the information that Sören might enjoy being spanked, and watches as Sören gets into place between Mark's thighs.
Sören takes a few slow licks, then he laps in earnest and Mark groans, tugging on Sören's curls. Sören moans into him and reaches down to play with himself as his tongue lashes away at Mark's nub. Anthony's cunt twinges, his body stirring again as he admires the view of Mark's pleasure and Sören's wicked tongue.
When Mark groans louder, Sören starts tongue-fucking him, playing with Mark's cock with one hand as he keeps touching himself with the other. Sören moans into Mark's cunt and Anthony hears himself moan too, losing his mind with lust.
Sören resumes licking at Mark's hard cock. He pulls back to make a long streamer with his tongue and giggles, then he dives back in, tongue rubbing hard and fast. "You taste amazing," Sören purrs.
"You have such a talented tongue," Mark says, tenderly stroking Sören's cheek and smiling at him before he lets out another groan and pulls Sören's hair again.
"That's a good, helpful boy," Anthony says, reaching in to pet Sören's hair, then he rubs Sören's back. Sören moans again and then he starts sucking Mark's cock.
"Oh god, those lips..." Mark shivers, and moans.
"Mmmmmmm." Sören makes slurping sounds as he bobs his head back and forth, lips clamped down on Mark's cock. Anthony feels himself creaming again.
Sören paws himself furiously, sucking and slurping hungrily at Mark's cock. Mark groans and rolls his hips, gently fucking Sören's mouth. The look of blissful lust on Mark's face is something Anthony is very familiar with, and he knows Mark is getting close.
Before Mark can come like that in Sören's mouth, he yanks Sören's curls hard enough to drag Sören off his cock, then he pulls Sören up into a kiss, tongues rubbing sensually, making sloppy streamers with Mark's cream. Mark kisses him deeply, then he rasps, "I want to fuck you." He glances over at Anthony. "If that's OK with you."
"It sure is." Anthony smiles at Sören encouragingly, who giggles, kisses Mark again, and then rolls onto his back, grabbing a hold of Mark and pulling Mark on top of him.
Mark and Sören kiss as they start rubbing together. Then they smile at each other as Sören runs his hands over Mark's biceps and triceps, before his hands slide down to Mark's ass, cupping it as Mark rocks his hips faster. Anthony moans with them at the squishing, slurping sounds.
He can smell their arousal, and he moves around behind them to get a look at their cunts together, pussy lips kissing, cream flowing between them in thick strands. Not able to resist, Anthony moves in and dips his tongue into Mark's cunt, and Mark cries out as Anthony's tongue pushes inside him. Anthony moans into Mark's cunt and works his tongue, lashing at Mark's inner walls. Mark works his hips harder, rubbing against Sören and fucking himself on Anthony's tongue. Anthony groans at the musky sweetness of him, the thick cream dripping into his mouth.
Anthony starts touching himself, teasing his hard, aching cock as his tongue keeps fucking Mark. Then, with Mark's cream on his tongue, his tongue slips into Sören's pussy. Sören howls and ruts against Mark desperately, and Anthony's tongue rubs inside him as hard and fast as he can, the rhythm of Sören's hips fucking his tongue. Anthony groans into his beloved and Sören moans back.
Anthony's tongue goes back inside Mark, fluttering. Then his tongue is in Sören, stroking, pleasuring. He goes back and forth between them, a few lashes in one, then the other, juices pouring, the flavor stronger and stronger. Anthony's wrist is starting to hurt from massaging his cock so vigorously. He hasn't taken out the pump and his cock feels almost as hard as when he pumps it, and he's so wet it's making a squelching rattling sound as he rubs himself.
He's getting close, and so are they. He makes himself stop tongue-fucking them, and rises up on his knees behind Mark. He looks down at his t-dick jutting out, throbbing, and he pushes it into Mark's cunt. Mark cries out again and bucks his hips madly, his delicious firm round ass shaking as he rides Sören's pussy and fucks Anthony's cock. Their hips and cunts smack together as Anthony gives into the primal urge to fuck, thrusting away.
As Anthony gets closer, he stops to catch his breath, pulls out of Mark, lowers down a little and tilts forward so his cock lines up with Sören's creamy cunt opening. Sören cries out "DADDY!" as Anthony takes him. Anthony throws his head back and sighs with the rush of emotion at being inside Sören for the first time, one flesh. Then, holding onto Mark, he lets Sören have it, cock gliding back and forth in Sören's wet silk, while Sören and Mark keep rubbing cocks together, Mark's hips rocking.
A couple dozen strokes and he's back in Mark's cunt, and Mark gets more vocal, moaning louder, swearing. "Oh Daddy, get that pussy. Give me that cock, Daddy."
Their hips and cunts smack together harder, faster, until Mark can't make words at all, only panting, whimpering. Anthony is panting right along with him, closer and closer, each kiss of those velvet walls more and more delicious. Just before he can come, he slaps Mark's ass, then slips out of him and pushes down into Sören. Sören cries out "Daddy, Daddy... yes, Daddy, fuck me, Daddy, want Daddy's hot dick so fucking bad..."
"Oh, baby." Anthony grunts. "Daddy's wanted to fuck you like this for so long..."
"Yes Daddy, fuck me, Daddy! More, Daddy, give me more cock, Daddy..."
Then Sören howls and Anthony feels Sören's inner walls clench his cock, pulsing. Anthony doubles over as he climaxes, making guttural noises and gasps. Mark comes too, screaming as he squirts all over both of their cunts, and Mark and Sören kiss as Anthony sinks down onto Mark's back, rubbing his nose in the silky black hair that always smells of rain.
Sören takes Anthony's hands, and Anthony squeezes, making a murmur of contentment. "I love you guys," Anthony mumbles, flexing his toes, letting himself slip into a golden haze.
Anthony feels like he's floating on clouds of warmth and light, a moment of perfect peace. The pining is over. They're together now. Tonight feels like a second wedding night, Sören marrying them in spirit. And nothing has ever felt so right.
The Finarfin part of Anthony is determined to protect their sacred bond at all costs, for nothing to rip them asunder again.
In the back of his mind, Anthony wonders where Fingolfin is, and if they'll ever find him.