Mark turned off the recorder and when he looked up, he caught a glimpse of the time. It was just after 3 PM. He'd been here in the studio composing since 8 AM. Today he'd been doing improv - just letting the music flow, playing on different instruments and recording it, to listen later and take notations then.
Macalaurë Fëanorion knew he'd been more inspired lately - no longer did he wander the shores to sing lamentations, but he shared a happy, peaceful life with the three men he loved, and he sang of joy. But this was an intense session even for him. He hadn't left the studio in hours. And this wasn't the first time this week. Elves had a stronger constitution than mortals and fewer bodily needs, but...
Suddenly, Anthony poked his head in. He left the veterinary clinic early on Fridays before Shabbos started in the evening, provided there weren't emergencies. Judging from him still wearing his blue medical scrubs, he'd just gotten home. "Hi," Anthony said.
"Hey."
Anthony glanced around the studio, then his eyes met Mark's and he put a hand on his hip. "You've been at it again, haven't you? Composing all day, for hours, without taking a break."
As if on cue, Mark's stomach growled. Their eyes met, and Anthony gave him a stern look.
Of course, Mark always found that expression sexy. And now he became aware of a different kind of hunger. When Mark was that deep in the zone composing, attuned to the Song, he found that his creative energy was deeply bound to his sexual energy. While his magnum opus had been forged from a place of grief and mourning, most of his best works were born of love... and passion. The more sex he had, the more creative he felt; the more he expressed himself, the randier he was. Though he'd come out of the haze of music, it lingered enough that he could perceive Anthony's Song better than usual - warm, shimmering notes of golden light through green trees - and a frisson went through him.
Anthony narrowed his eyes. "You need to eat something."
Mark looked down at Anthony's crotch - Anthony had taken out his packer already - then back up, and licked his lips. "Yes, I do."
Anthony threw his head back and laughed, turning beetroot. "You're as bad as Sören."
"I wonder why."
Anthony laughed harder. Then he moved closer, took Mark's face in his hands, and kissed him deeply. Mark moaned into the kiss as their tongues swirled together. Mark kissed him back - an open-mouthed kissed, tongues rubbing, teasing - and Mark's hands slid down Anthony's chest and stomach, to grip the waistband of Anthony's scrub pants.
Looking up at Anthony adoringly, worshipfully, Mark dropped to his knees and began to pull down Anthony's pants. When Anthony's pants were down to his knees, Mark leaned in, took the waistband of Anthony's boxer-briefs in his teeth, and tugged them down with his teeth, growlingy. Anthony chuckled, and then his breath hitched once he was exposed and Mark rubbed his nose in the thick black bush, breathing in the musky scent of him.
Mark's tongue began to play, taking long, slow, deliberate strokes with his tongue up and down, back and forth. When Anthony's clit was more erect - demonstrating impressive bottom growth - Mark mashed his face in and started to suck Anthony's clit. Anthony grabbed a hold of Mark's head, then pulled on the points of Mark's ears, gently rubbing them with his thumbs, knowing how sensitive elven ears were. A shiver went down Mark's spine and he sucked harder. His cunt throbbed with desire, hard and slick at the feel of Anthony's hard clit rolling around in his mouth, the salty-sweet taste of him, the way Anthony trembled, moaning.
When Anthony was so far gone into Mark's sucking that it was more difficult for him to keep his balance, he let go of Mark's ears and pushed Mark off him. "Let's take this to the couch," Anthony rasped. "How does sixty-nine sound?"
"Wonderful."
Anthony kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants and underwear, then he and Mark undressed each other, kissing, running their hands over exposed flesh. They kissed their way to the couch, reaching between each other's legs and playing - they were both drenched - and then Mark lay back on the couch and Anthony climbed over him.
Mark's bottom growth wasn't as big as Anthony's, but herbs and magic had made a significant difference that Mark was satisfied with, and his clit liked being sucked just like a cock. Anthony knew just how to please him, both of them sucking each other, moaning with their mouths full between filthy slurping, suctioning sounds. Filthier still when Anthony's fingers were inside him, banging away. Mark lost himself in the hot lust of pleasuring Anthony's hard, swollen clit, and the delicious pleasure of Anthony's mouth working on him... time seemed to stop, nothing else existing but their hunger for each other.
When Anthony's thighs started quivering, Mark knew he was close. That fueled his own excitement - trying to hold back, wanting to make it last, to savor the decadent sensations as long as he could. But when Anthony's clit twitched in his mouth and Mark felt his contractions, it set off his own climax, coming hard with a fierce cry, squirting. Anthony's own cream gushed onto Mark's waiting tongue and he took a few last licks, enjoying the muskier taste of his lover and feeling the final pulsations of his orgasm, in time with his own. They took each other's hands and for a moment Maglor felt their oneness in the Song, threads of light twining together into a dazzling sunburst of ecstasy.
They sat up and kissed, sharing the combined taste of their juices, and then they held each other, rocking together in a moment of perfect peace and contentment.
"I love you," Mark said.
"I love you too." Anthony kissed the tip of his nose.
Mark's stomach growled again.
Anthony raised an eyebrow, pursed his lips, and wagged a finger. "OK, now you need to eat something, and I mean actual food. Doctor's orders."