"I can't bloody believe I let you talk me into this."
Anthony came down the hall and walked into the living room, where Sören was waiting in the armchair. He did a runway twirl, then put his hands on his hips, glaring, and Sören doubled over with hysterical laughter, so much so that one of their cats, Seumas, yelled "nya" and hopped down from where he'd been sitting on the arm of the chair, receiving pettings from Sören. Seumas gave them a filthy look before he stalked off to his food dish.
Sören had been invited to a Halloween party hosted by the owner of the gallery where Sören worked as a curator and occasionally showed his paintings and pottery. Anthony was going as his plus one. Costumes were mandatory, and after giving it a lot of thought, Anthony and Sören decided to attend as Daryl Hall and John Oates.
Sören's costume didn't require much effort - he was considerably taller than Oates, but he had near-shoulder-length black curls and a short black beard, so all he needed was to tease his hair and make his curls even poofier, and wear something appropriately 1980s, so he was wearing a striped black-and-white tank top under a denim jacket, and ripped jeans.
Anthony, on the other hand, had short black hair, so he needed to buy a wig. Anthony was no stranger to wearing silly wigs - he was a barrister and had to wear an off-white curly wig when he went to court - but somehow the blond mullet was even more ridiculous.
And yet, strangely appealing. Though Anthony was a brunet, the blond hair didn't look completely wrong on him as it did on many brunets. Of course, Sören thought Anthony would look good in just about anything. Even that red, white, and black plaid long-sleeved shirt they'd found at a thrift shop for that authentic 80s look, over a black T-shirt. The vintage Sergio Valente jeans left little to the imagination, hugging Anthony's bulge and his firm ass quite nicely.
"Wow," Sören said. "That's a look, right there."
Anthony shook his head, trying to glare again, but his eyes were crinkled at the corners and his lips quirked, giving way to that full-bodied laugh. "The things I do for love."
"It's not that bad. The outfit is, but I don't know, you rock that mullet." Sören attempted a wink that was more of a clumsy blink. "Not saying you should dye your hair, I like you the way you are, but you're cute as a blond."
Anthony rolled his eyes, facepalmed, and laughed harder. "You know nothing, John Oates."
_
The Halloween party was also a karaoke party, and inevitably, the crowd began to chant "Hall. And. Oates! Hall. And. Oates!" until Anthony and Sören gave in.
Neither Anthony nor Sören liked crowds - indeed, both of them were introverts who usually weren't into parties like this - but performing allowed them to "put on a mask" and took the edge off. They did a duet of "I Can't Go For That" - Anthony quipped before the song it was his answer to wearing the mullet wig - and Sören thought that would be it, but the crowd wanted more. So they ended up doing a few more songs - "Maneater", "Private Eyes", and for the finale, "Method of Modern Love".
Anthony got really into it, swaying, spinning and making fingerguns just like he'd seen Daryl Hall do in videos, and when he and Sören sang together they started bumping and grinding, jokingly at first then more flirtatiously. The way Anthony's face lit up, green eyes shining as he gave that dazzling grin, enjoying himself, got Sören horny for him... and the way Anthony's package and his ass looked in those Sergio Valente jeans helped a lot as well. During "Private Eyes" Anthony stripped off Sören's denim jacket and ran his hands over Sören's tank top, thumbs lingering on the pierced nipples, and by the end of the song Sören was half-hard. He got harder during "Method of Modern Love" when Anthony came behind him, hot breath on Sören's neck, and rubbed his bulge against Sören's ass, before breaking away and spinning around some more, running in place, skipping around. Even dancing like a dork, Anthony was unfairly attractive, and Sören wanted.
Sören needed to excuse himself, not wanting to make a scene with his hard-on, so after they took a bow together to wild applause, Sören ducked off to the bathroom, face on fire, cock throbbing. He intended to have a quick wank to relieve himself, something to tide him over till later, but just before he could step into the bathroom he felt arms lock around him from behind, a hard bulge pressed against his ass, breath tickling his neck again, and heard Anthony's voice, husky. "Hey there. Going somewhere?"
Anthony came around, led Sören into the bathroom, and quickly closed the door behind them. Anthony slammed Sören against the bathroom door and kissed him hard. They kissed and kissed, hard cocks rubbing together through their jeans, and Anthony's hands were on Sören's body again, fingers lovingly tracing the full-sleeve tattoos on Sören's arms - flames on one, ocean waves on the other - then Anthony's hands slid from Sören's chest to his stomach and back up, thumbs rubbing, teasing Sören's pierced nipples into hard peaks through the tank top. Anthony started kissing Sören's neck.
"You were going to wank off in here, weren't you?" Anthony rasped, before taking a nibble at Sören's neck, knowing just how his husband was sensitive.
Sören bit his lower lip, giggling, and nodded. "Yeah. You got me horny out there." Sören waggled his eyebrows, not able to resist ribbing Anthony a little. "Something about that wig..."
Anthony bit Sören's neck harder, making Sören moan, and Anthony pulled Sören closer, reaching around to swat his ass in the gap between Sören's back and the door. "I think," Anthony husked, "we should find something else for that cheeky mouth of yours to do."
Sören grinned. "Whoa, here he comes, watch out boy, he'll chew you up..."
Anthony swatted Sören's ass again. Then Sören took the lead, walking Anthony back and pushing him up against one of the bathroom walls. It was a swanky bathroom, with dark silver-flecked tile, a black marble sink, and grey walls; there was an arched silver-trimmed mirror over the bathroom sink. They looked completely out of place here in their Hall and Oates getups and Sören couldn't help laughing at it, but he stopped laughing when Anthony unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, freeing his hard cock. Anthony hadn't worn underwear under his Sergio Valente jeans, which was unlike him - and definitely contributed to why the jeans fit him like a second skin.
Sören gave Anthony another kiss, then he dropped to his knees right there on the hard floor, and, his eyes locked with Anthony's green eyes, Sören wrapped his lips around Anthony's cock, slowly taking it in an inch at a time until Anthony's long, thick cock was halfway in - even halfway, Sören almost choked on it, Anthony was so thick. Sören's right hand gripped the bottom half of Anthony's cock, gently rubbing up and down the shaft as his head bobbed, sucking him slowly at first, then harder, faster, as Anthony tugged on Sören's curls and moaned, eyes rolling back. Sören loved making him moan like that, feeling Anthony's cock pulse in his mouth, tasting the lightly sweet precum. Anthony trembled, hands quivering, and when Sören's mouth fit around him tighter, suctioning hard, Anthony's knees buckled and he leaned against the wall to support himself, letting out a grunt that went right to Sören's cock, leaping, throbbing, balls aching. Sören moaned around Anthony's cock, sucking like he was starving for it, making lewd slurping noises.
"Oh god," Anthony panted. "Sören..."
"Mmmmmmm. Mmmmmm."
Anthony was still wearing that ridiculous blond mullet wig - and somehow still managed to look hot - but when Anthony groaned again Sören stifled a laugh, tickled by the absurdity of what they were doing. Anthony looked down, narrowed his eyes, and yanked Sören by the hair, pulling Sören off his cock. Sören made a little whimper of protest.
Then Sören laughed, pointing. "You. In that wig. I'm sorry, but -"
Anthony reached around to smack Sören's ass. Sören's cock leapt again. Anthony smirked, and started laughing too. "You fucking brat."
"Takk."
Anthony slapped Sören's ass again, and then he plucked the wig from his head and let it fall to the floor. He didn't stop there. He pulled off the long-sleeved shirt, then the T-shirt, and started to yank down his jeans.
"Here? Now?" Sören's cock throbbed again, hole twitching around the buttplug he'd worn to the party, loving the naughty thrill of wearing it under his boxer-briefs. He glanced over his shoulder at the closed bathroom door - the hall leading down to the bathroom was only a short walk from where a little over two dozen guests were gathered in the host's living room.
"I need to come," Anthony said, "and so do you. Unless you've an objection." Anthony grinned. "If you can't go for that."
"One on one, I want to play that game tonight..."
Anthony's laughter rang out, and he rewarded Sören with a kiss. Then Sören got out of his outfit too, completely naked. Sören turned around to give Anthony a sassy butt wiggle, and Anthony let out a low whistle of appreciation at Sören's ass... and the plug in his hole. Anthony pulled the plug out of Sören's hole, open and slick with lube. Anthony's breath hitched at the sight of it and he whispered, "Fuck."
Usually they liked to take their time with foreplay, kissing and caressing, teasing as long as they could stand it, but Sören was already ready to get fucked, hole twitching, aching for Anthony inside him. Anthony roughly bent Sören over the sink and got behind him. Sören passed back a jar of lotion and Anthony slicked up his cock, which was already plenty wet from Sören's saliva and his own precum, and then Anthony grabbed Sören's hips and began to push inside.
Anthony took it slow the first dozen strokes, teasing them both, and then he reached up to tug a fistful of Sören's curls and started to thrust harder, faster. They watched themselves in the mirror - Sören's brown eyes glazed, full lips parted with soft moans, Anthony's sculpted, pelted body in fluid motion as he rocked his hips, a predatory look in his green eyes.
"We look so fucking hot together," Sören panted.
Anthony yanked Sören's curls harder, and his free hand slapped Sören's ass. "Look at you, getting it."
Sören moaned. The sight of Anthony's cock plunging in and out of his hole, Sören's ass jiggling slightly with each push and pull... Sören reached down and started jerking his cock, moaning louder.
"That's right," Anthony purred, his fingers brushing down Sören's spine, making him tingle shiver, Sören's nipples hardening even more, before Anthony spanked Sören's ass again. "I can take you anytime, anyplace I want, and you'll let me, won't you? You want it just as badly as I do, if not more..."
"God, yes." Sören let out a little whimper.
"Doesn't matter that there's other people just a few meters away and they can probably hear us." Their hips slapped together louder, as Anthony fucked harder. "Because you're mine."
"Yes, yes, yes..." The thrill of knowing people could hear them fucking in the bathroom intensified Sören's excitement and urgency. Sören rocked his hips back at Anthony, desperately fucking himself on Anthony's cock, stroking his own cock harder, making a wet rattling noise.
"It's like you're in heat for it all the time."
"Yes." Sören moaned, and then let out a cry of, "Daddy."
Anthony grunted in response, slamming into him even harder, faster, wilder. Anthony's cock rubbed that sweet spot just right and Sören was right there, so close, but he held back, just a little longer, needing to get lost in the glory of their wild, uninhibited sex, where nothing else mattered. "More," Sören begged. "More, Daddy, more, fuck me, Daddy, more..."
Anthony groaned and slapped Sören's ass again.
"Daddy." That was definitely loud enough others could hear, and Sören didn't care. He loved it, the wickedness of it, unbridled lust. "More, Daddy, more, fuck me, Daddy, take it, Daddy, take what belongs to you, Daddy, more, I need Daddy's cock, need Daddy to make me come, please, Daddy, more..."
Anthony's breath hitched. "Getting close, baby."
Anthony's arms reached and he pulled Sören up, Sören's back against his chest. Their hips continued slapping together, Anthony thrusting, Sören rocking back at him. Anthony's right arm locked around Sören, tight, and Anthony's left hand grasped Sören's cock, working it in time with his thrusts. The sight of Anthony playing with his cock while kissing his neck threatened to undo Sören right then, but he held back, held back, savoring, watching the beauty of their passion, his entire body electrified by the hot, needy fuck, the rubbing inside him and around his cock so good, so fucking good...
Anthony tilted Sören's head to his so they could kiss, and then Anthony's right hand played with Sören's nipples, pinching, rubbing, as Anthony's left hand gripped like a vise. Their tongues licked together, teasing, and Sören went off, whimpering as he shot all over the sink and the mirror. Two thrusts later Anthony was done, coming with a growl, then gasping for breath, shaking against Sören as Sören contracted around him. Sören sighed, the pleasure throbbing and throbbing, melting bliss, sinking, then soaring in euphoria. Sören's laughter bubbled out, feeling like he was high even though he'd barely had anything to drink, and no drugs.
"Fuck." Anthony laughed too, and nuzzled Sören's neck, before flashing that brilliant grin Sören loved so much, in the mirror.
"I love you," Sören said.
"I love you too." Anthony tousled Sören's mop of poofy curls, then he laughed harder. "Oh god, the mess. We're gonna have to clean it."
"I say it isn't so, it isn't so-o-o..."
Anthony slapped Sören's ass again.
They wiped up the cum together, continuing to laugh. "There's so much of it," Anthony said, shaking his head with disbelief. "God, it's like you had five years of cum in those balls, and I know we fucked this morning."
"You made me come hard." Sören had to pick on him again. "Maybe we could roleplay Hall and Oates once in awhile." He was joking - mostly.
Anthony gave him a look, and Sören cracked up laughing. Anthony threw the mullet wig at Sören and Sören giggled as it landed on his shoulder. Then Sören started skritching it like it was a cat, and Anthony facepalmed.
"Come on, brat." Anthony started to put his clothes back on. "Let's go home and I can give you an encore."
Sören smiled. "Your kiss is on my list of the best things in life."
