It was February fourth, Anthony's nineteenth birthday. His birthday fell on a Thursday this year, and Anthony had school the next day, so he wasn't going to be able to stay out late - not that Anthony tended to go out for his birthday. It did mean that Mark's original plans of taking Anthony out to a bar had to be modified, and instead they were going to have a couple of drinks at Mark's dorm; Mark also wanted to do something special for dinner.
For the last two and a half weeks since Mark's revelation that he was bisexual, the topic of sexual orientation had not come up again. Anthony kept getting the urge to tell Mark how he felt, and every time he held back. Just because Mark liked men, didn't mean Mark liked him in that way... especially with their age difference. Anthony valued Mark's friendship enough, not merely the first friend he'd ever had but the first person he felt got him in a lot of respects, to not want to make things awkward and create a rift. That didn't keep him from pining, or fantasizing. Anthony had gotten so worked up thinking about Mark again that he ended up masturbating right after he got back to his dorm from classes, and it was because of that, he decided to shower and change before heading over to Mark's dorm. He felt a little self-conscious as he gave himself a once-over in the mirror - he was wearing a navy blue button-down shirt with black jeans, trying to strike a medium between casual and dressy, and that inner voice nagged him, Why do you care. It's not like this is a date.
The problem was, of course, he wanted it to be, and it was that which made him take care with what he wore, how his hair looked tonight. He didn't want to overdo it and make it really obvious, but he couldn't not make a little fuss, the faintest hope it might impress his crush.
Mark was happy to see him, his face lighting up when he greeted Anthony at the door, and he gave Anthony a tight hug. Anthony loved it - Mark's arms felt so good around him, Mark's body felt strong and safe against his - and he hated it at the same time, the delicious torment of wanting him so badly and feeling him and not being able to do anything about it.
"Good, now that you're here I'll call for delivery." They had pre-agreed upon Chinese takeaway for dinner.
Conversation was light - Mark had Led Zeppelin in the background, on vinyl, and Anthony wanted to give an appreciative ear - but they talked about their respective weeks at school, things they were working on. When the delivery arrived, Mark went down to get it, and came back not just with the food, but a six-pack of beer bottles he'd put in the fridge of the communal kitchen to get cold sometime before Anthony had arrived.
"I'm surprised that didn't get nicked," Anthony said, gesturing to the beer.
Mark nodded. "It's only been a few hours... and I had my name on it." He gestured to where he'd written "M. Lauer" in Sharpie. He grinned. "I think this is one of those rare situations where my height is an advantage - people don't want to mess with me."
Anthony laughed. "I can't blame them. Not just your height, either, you're pretty built." Then Anthony swallowed hard, realizing that sounded close to an admission of checking Mark out, and he didn't want Mark to get the impression that he did... even though he very much did. He was, in fact, trying not to look at Mark's firm ass as Mark assembled food on plates for both of them.
Mark handed Anthony his plate and a cold bottle of beer, then grabbed his own and sat down. Watching Mark wrap his lips around the rim of the beer bottle made Anthony flustered, but he tried to keep calm and, most importantly, not obvious about ogling his friend.
"I'm sorry this isn't champagne," Mark said. "Someone definitely would steal that."
"This is still good." Anthony nodded, touched that Mark was willing to get something more expensive for him. "I appreciate it."
Anthony glanced around the room and on the counter by the kettle and hot plate he finally noticed a covered cake dish. His eyebrows shot up. Mark watched him looking at it and said, "Yes, I baked you a cake."
"Awwwwww..." Anthony was even more touched by that. He wanted to put his food and drink down and give Mark a hug, but he didn't.
"I have something else for you, too."
"You didn't have to get me anything. Really."
"I wanted to. You'll see." Mark smiled before he took a bite of his egg roll.
Anthony was on pins with anticipation. He tried not to scarf his food down. When they had all they wanted, Mark served them each cake - he'd made a chocolate bundt cake with pecan frosting, which was so moist Anthony wondered if there were any talents this man didn't have - and they nursed a second bottle of beer as they ate cake and Mark changed the record to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon album.
Mark offered him a third bottle, which would finish the six-pack. Anthony accepted, though he knew he was coming up on his limit of what he could tolerate without getting fully drunk. He didn't want to get drunk, and have a hangover for school tomorrow. He'd had a hangover once, during his first introduction to alcohol when Nigel had let him get drunk at an Oasis concert, and he didn't relish the idea of reliving the hangover experience. He was drinking just enough to make him mellow... perhaps a little too mellow. He was staring at Mark more and more.
Mark brought out a long box with blue plaid gift wrap. The box had such a neat wrapping paper job that Anthony felt a bit guilty about undoing it, but Mark said, "Go for it," and Anthony tore into it.
Inside the box were three vinyl records of Pat Metheny Group... and a hardcover book. Not just any hardcover book, but a copy of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, and one that looked old. Anthony ran his thumb along the worn leather spine, noticing the scuffed lettering; he brought the book up to his nose and there was a vague mustiness, not unpleasant, but the way very old books smelled. He opened the front cover and there was an autograph from Walt Whitman himself, on the yellowing page.
Anthony gasped. "This... oh my god, I can't... I can't accept this. This must have cost you a mint..."
Mark waved his hand dismissively. "It barely cost anything. Let's just say I was very, very lucky to be in the right place at the right time."
Anthony's eyebrows shot up, incredulous. The alcohol had relaxed him enough to melt away his filter and he couldn't resist the joke. "What, did you meet him? Are you immortal?"
Mark snorted. He lifted up his hands. "You got me." Then he chugged down the rest of his beer.
Mark raising his hands had once again drawn Anthony's attention to the severe scarring on Mark's right hand, something he tried not to look at, not wanting to be rude - Mark was otherwise beautiful to look at, and the disfigurement of his hand didn't take away from that at all. Anthony wondered how Mark could play so well with burns to his hand. Anthony looked away, but Mark had now also observed him staring at his hand, and Mark said, "It's an old wound."
"Burn scar?"
"Yeah."
"How did you get it?"
"Something my father invented." Mark lowered his head. "Mistakes were made."
"I'm... sorry." Anthony felt that ache in his chest; Mark rarely talked about his past, and not for the first time did Anthony wonder about what Mark's life had been like before they met. Anthony now wondered for the first time if Mark's life of travel was to try to outrun his past. "What did your father invent?"
"Trouble." Mark gave a wry smile. Then more seriously, he said, "He had powerful enemies and we ran afoul of them. The less you know about any of it, the better off you'll be."
"That sounds... difficult. Did it strain your relationship with your father?"
"He's dead, but... no. I idolized my father. I still sort of do, while I see his flaws better than I once did. I would have died for him. I would do anything to bring him back." Mark shrugged. "Enough about me and my sad life, it's your birthday."
Anthony wanted to tell him he was here if Mark needed a shoulder - he wanted to be a good friend, and he now had even more curiosity about Mark's past than he did before. It did indeed seem like things had happened to influence the loneliness and pain that came out in Mark's music, and his voice when he sang. But he also knew that talking about traumatic events was hard - he couldn't bring himself to get into depth about his uncle's suicide, or his friendless, bullied youth. So he didn't want to push Mark. It was enough that Mark had opened up just this little bit. It made him feel closer.
Dangerously close.
"Here." Mark leaned in and took Leaves Of Grass out of Anthony's hands. Anthony picked up his bottle of beer and drank as Mark leafed through. "The reason why I chose this book as one of your birthday presents isn't just because you appreciated a poem of his when we were coming back from camping, and isn't just because I had an autographed copy laying around."
"I still can't believe it." Anthony felt like Mark had spoiled him, even if Mark claimed the book hadn't cost him a fortune.
"Walt Whitman is largely believed to have been gay, or at the very least bisexual." Their eyes met. "It's pretty blatant in his Calamus series of poems." Mark found what he was looking for and held the book open and read:
A glimpse through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark'd seated in a corner,
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,
A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.
Mark's deep velvet voice made Anthony melt... and the words sent his heart racing. A youth who loves me and whom I love. Was Mark just reading that poem at random, or did it mean something? Was he hinting? Anthony didn't want to get his hopes up, but...
Mark flipped ahead and read another.
O you whom I often and silently come where you are that I may be with you,
As I walk by your side or sit near, or remain in the same room with you,
Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me.
Their eyes met and it was like a spark had been thrown off and hit him. Anthony fumbled, accidentally spilling what was left of his beer over his shirt. "Oh, shit..."
Mark got up from where he was sitting and marched to the bathroom. He came back with a towel. But the shirt was soaked enough with beer that it was going to need to be laundered as soon as possible to not make Anthony's dorm smell like a pub. Anthony didn't want to go just yet, but the longer that shirt sat out -
And of course, it wasn't just the shirt on his mind, but what Mark had just read aloud. Once again, Anthony wondered if it had been random or deliberate. On his end, it was as if Walt Whitman's words had spoken a secret truth of his soul, how he felt about being around Mark. He didn't dare hope Mark felt the same way, but those words, that gaze...
"I was going to do a load of laundry tomorrow but I can start one now and throw your shirt in with my stuff if you want to stick around," Mark offered.
"Oh. That's... very generous. I mean, I can do my own laundry -"
"I know, but it's OK. It's no trouble."
Anthony nodded. He felt like an idiot, flustered and horny, and as he unbuttoned his shirt, he said, "I'm sorry -"
"No need to apologize. I can let you borrow one of my shirts when I take you back to your dorm."
When Anthony's shirt was off, Mark put it in his laundry basket and went down to the laundry facilities. The few minutes that Mark was out of the dorm felt like an eternity, with Anthony fretting, self-conscious all over again about his appearance, like he was too pale, too skinny, too hairy - at nineteen he already had some chest hair. What does he care about what you look like with your shirt off, just because he's bi doesn't mean he's interested in YOU. He was also half-hard, still tingling from Mark rubbing away at him with the towel... still giddy from the poems Mark had read, as if he were aiming those words right at him. He wanted to run and hide, before it was too obvious he was in too deep.
But then when Mark got back in the dorm, he paused in the doorway, looking at Anthony like he was seeing him for the first time. Their eyes held for a long moment, and Mark came over and sat next to him on the couch - instead of sitting in the armchair, like he had before. Anthony's heart skipped a beat, cock hardening some more at the closeness of Mark's body... close enough to feel Mark's breath.
"You know," Mark said, his voice husky, "I might not let you borrow one of my shirts after all. That's a good look for you." He gave Anthony a cheeky grin.
Anthony couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You..." He couldn't even make words. He wanted this, more than anything, but... was it real?
"I had this whole suave seduction scene in mind, I was going to put on something sexy after this record was done, like Marvin Gaye... and then you blew my plans out of the water looking like this." Mark's eyes raked Anthony up and down.
Anthony's mouth opened. He could barely breathe.
"I'll back off if this is too weird, if you don't like me that way -"
"No." Anthony found his words, needing to give Mark reassurance. "I do. I... this is what I want."
"Good, because I really, really want to make love to you. I have for awhile now. I thought about trying to get down your pants when we went camping, but then I realized it was probably safer to make absolutely sure you were gay first."
"That... I can't blame you for that." Anthony had the same fear about coming out to him - though he found it interesting a big guy like Mark was worried about Anthony's reaction, but then he supposed one couldn't be too careful.
Then Anthony swallowed hard, his face on fire. He wanted to have sex with Mark too - every nerve, every cell, in his body was aching for it, wanting to know what it was like... wanting to share that with someone he'd fallen for. But, Anthony didn't know if Mark realized how inexperienced he was, and he felt it was better to be honest than for Mark to go into this expecting Anthony to know what he was doing and be disappointed. "I want to... but I'm... I'm still a virgin."
Mark nodded, and Anthony realized Mark had been expecting the opposite - it was like he knew that already. "You've never even kissed anyone, have you?"
"No."
"Well..." Mark smiled. "There's a first time for everything."
Mark leaned in closer. Anthony's heart pounded, electricity going through him. He took a breath and also came closer. Mark's face moved forward, and their lips touched for the first time. Mark's lips were soft, and Anthony let himself yield to them. Mark's lips parted, and Anthony parted his own, and Mark's tongue gently slipped into Anthony's mouth. Mark's tongue slid against his, slowly, sensuously, and Anthony moved his own tongue in return, feeling a bit clumsy at first, then finding his rhythm. The kiss deepened, their tongues swirling, teasing. Anthony broke out in gooseflesh; his cock was rock-hard now, aching for attention.
Mark pulled back, his gaze molten silver. They were both breathing harder. "Good," Mark said.
"Yeah? That wasn't terrible?" Anthony liked it.
"Not at all." Mark came forward again.
This time Mark was more insistent... less gentle. He took Anthony's face in his hands and kissed him more deeply, more hungrily than before. Anthony matched hunger for hunger, moving his tongue against Mark's like they were trying to fuck with their tongues, and Mark groaned into the kiss. One of his hands let go of Anthony's face and slid over Anthony's bare chest. When Mark's thumb brushed a nipple Anthony shivered and gasped into the kiss. Mark chuckled and pulled back. He kissed along Anthony's jaw, and then started kissing Anthony's neck. The feel of Mark's lips and tongue on his neck, as Mark's hand continued to rub his chest and stomach, almost undid Anthony right then.
"That's it," Mark encouraged. "Let yourself relax. Let yourself enjoy this." Mark continued kissing and licking his neck. Anthony heard himself moan - he hadn't realized his neck was so deliciously sensitive. Every nerve in his body was screaming for this, wanting to feel Mark's mouth and hands everywhere... wanting all Mark had to give.
Their mouths met again. Anthony still couldn't believe this was happening. It was even better than anything he'd fantasized and they hadn't gotten past kissing yet. His head spun, everything else in the world melting away in the fire of Mark's kiss. He, too, was melting. He let out another moan, almost ashamed of himself at the animal noise that came out of him, but he was too far gone in his lust to care.
Mark drew back, lips lingering for a few seconds. He gave Anthony a sultry look. "You about ready?"
Anthony nodded eagerly. Then he bit his lower lip, feeling a bit self-conscious of his needy reaction.
"Can I ask you, uh, a personal question?" Mark gave an apologetic little smile.
Anthony didn't know what Mark was about to ask, but he nodded again.
"When's the last time you... went to the bathroom?"
Anthony realized what Mark meant. He felt like he could die of embarrassment - and anticipation, with what it implied - but he understood why Mark was asking. He answered honestly. "Before I came here. And I took a shower after, so -"
"So you're good." Mark nodded. "OK, good. I'm sorry -"
"No, I get it."
"It's such an awkward question, though. Then again, I've heard most first times are awkward and not very satisfying. I was fortunate enough to be with an older man who... knew what he was doing and made sure I enjoyed myself." Mark nuzzled him and stole another kiss. Anthony moaned, resisting the urge to tear Mark's clothes off.
"What happened? To him, I mean." Anthony felt like an idiot for blurting out the question, but curiosity got the better of him.
"He's dead."
"Shit. I'm sorry." Anthony felt a twinge of sympathy and guilt, wishing he hadn't asked.
"Everyone I've ever cared about is dead, Anthony." Their eyes met. "Except for you." Mark came closer. "And tonight, we're going to live."
Mark moved in for another kiss, and Anthony found himself grabbing a lock of Mark's hair, urgent. Mark laughed into the kiss, and after they pulled apart, breathing harder, Mark gave him a mischievous look, picked him up like he weighed nothing, and carried him over to the bed.
Once Mark put Anthony down on the bed, Mark began undressing. Anthony took his brogues off, then his socks, and got out of his jeans and his boxer-briefs as quickly as he could. He still felt self-conscious about his body - especially his hairy legs; he'd gotten called "Sasquatch" by some of his peers in the locker room at secondary school - and that intensified as he looked at Mark, lean but with well-defined musculature, right down to a six-pack. Mark was almost hairless except for a bush as luxurious and raven-black as the mane that fell to the middle of his back. Mark could have been a model. But when Anthony lay back on Mark's bed, naked, the sight of Mark's cock standing at full attention for him put him at ease just a little.
Mark climbed onto the bed, and over him. As their mouths met once more, their hard cocks bumped up together. Cock rubbed against cock as their tongues played, their hands wandering over each other's bodies. Anthony wrapped his arms around Mark, pulling him closer, and Mark kissed him more deeply, sending fire through Anthony's veins. Already, Anthony was leaking precum, and when Mark began kissing his neck again, Anthony looked down at their cocks rubbing together and saw Mark was dripping precum too; their precum was making little streamers between their cocks. The sight of that was so erotic Anthony almost came from that, and he let out a cry as Mark's mouth found the sweet hollow where his neck and shoulder met, kissing, licking, nibbling.
They were roughly the same size - Mark was slightly longer, and Anthony was a bit thicker. Anthony realized Mark was going to put all of that inside him, and he wanted it, though he was a little nervous as well. Mark seemed to sense Anthony tensing, and picked his head up, looked into Anthony's eyes. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
"I want everything." Anthony was being honest. "Just... go slow. Be good to me."
"I'll be better than good to you." Mark tenderly kissed his brow, then his lips slid down Anthony's nose before he claimed Anthony's mouth again. "I want to make your first time special. I want to spoil you."
Anthony touched Mark's face. "I want you to enjoy yourself too, you know."
Mark grinned. "I'm already enjoying this. A lot." He resumed kissing Anthony's neck, and gave it a little bite, making Anthony cry out from pleasure-pain. Mark's tongue soothed and teased, and a few neck kisses later, Mark murmured, "Enjoying this too much."
Anthony laughed, delighted.
Mark continued kissing Anthony's neck and shoulder. Anthony knew he was going to have love bites on his neck tomorrow, and he didn't care. He'd wear them proudly, even if he couldn't be open about the gender of who they were from. Just those neck kisses alone made Anthony's entire body sing, lost in pleasure. He never knew anything could feel so good.
Mark kissed Anthony's mouth over and over again as their cocks and balls rubbed. Mark's hands were all over him, fingers walking, tracing, like he was committing Anthony's body to memory through touch. Mark started kissing and licking Anthony's neck again, kissed and licked his throat, and this time kissed his way down to Anthony's nipples. As Mark's tongue brushed a nub, teasing it to aching hardness, Anthony gasped and clutched at Mark's hair. Like his neck, he hadn't known he was so sensitive there. Mark smiled and made a murmur of approval before his tongue lashed some more, lapping and lapping. When Mark sucked on it, Anthony cried out, his cock jolting.
Mark chuckled and gently put a hand over Anthony's mouth. "We have to be quiet," Mark husked.
Of course they did - they weren't just in a dorm building, but it wasn't safe in 1999 for two men to be overheard having sex. Anthony nodded and Mark withdrew his hand from Anthony's mouth - his hand went to Anthony's other nipple, strumming and plucking it while his tongue continued to lash away, his lips suckling hungrily. Anthony gasped, arched to him, completely overcome by sensation. A few moments later Mark switched, licking and sucking at the nipple he'd been playing with while his thumb and fingers rubbed and pinched the nipple wet from his mouth. Mark went back and forth for a long time, grinding his hard cock against Anthony's thigh, both of them breathing harder with their arousal. Mark seemed to love doing this as much as Anthony loved having it done to him; Anthony wondered if Mark's nipples were as sensitive as his, and his hand reached out so a thumb could brush one, making Mark groan before his lips tugged on a nipple harder.
Anthony's thumbs stroked Mark's nipples as Mark worshiped his, making them almost painfully hard, making his cock throb, dripping precum. At last Mark's mouth slid lower, and he started kissing and licking Anthony's stomach, kissing and nibbling Anthony's sides. Anthony moaned and pet Mark's hair, the intense pleasure making him gasp and shiver. He cried out again as Mark found a sensitive place near his hip. Mark gave him a stern look before his eyes softened, crinkled at the corners. "Don't make me gag you," Mark teased.
Anthony tried to keep it down as Mark resumed exploring him, kissing from Anthony's hip down to a thigh, nibbling, licking, and sucking on the deliciously sensitive skin of his inner thighs. "You're lovely," Mark whispered before his tongue slid slowly down Anthony's knee. He kissed behind the knee - Anthony fought back a sob at how good that felt - and licked back up. "You are so beautiful." Mark started to lick the hair on Anthony's thigh, like he was grooming it.
"I could say the same thing about you." Anthony touched Mark's face. "You're a work of art." Even though his head was muddy with pleasure and desire, he found the right words to express his feelings. "You are a song made flesh."
Mark smiled. He nuzzled and kissed Anthony's hand, eyes closed reverently, and then he gave Anthony a wicked look just before he bit Anthony's thigh. Anthony gasped and bucked against him, clutching Mark's head, pulling his hair. He felt like he was going to die if he didn't come soon, and yet he never wanted Mark to stop exploring him like this, pleasuring him like this.
Mark leaned over Anthony's cock, flushed deep pink, completely slick with precum. His eyes locked with Anthony's as his lips wrapped around the head. Anthony moaned, nails digging into Mark's shoulders at the feeling of his cock kissed by the wet silk of Mark's mouth. Mark focused on just the head at first, sucking, rubbing his tongue, making Anthony gasp and writhe, then he took more of it in his mouth, moving up and down slowly, then sucking harder, faster. The wet suctioning around his cock got more and more intense and Anthony felt like he was climbing, higher and higher as his balls got tighter, ready to explode. When Mark started moaning "mmmmm" around his cock, Anthony shivered, and felt himself rush to that point of no return. Their eyes met again and Anthony warned, "Mark, I'm -"
"Mmmmmmhmmmmm."
Anthony let out a shuddery gasp, trying not to cry out as he let go, going off like a rocket, coming in Mark's mouth. Mark moaned with his mouth full of Anthony's cum, and swallowed it all - some seeped from the corners of Mark's mouth, there was so much of it. Anthony lay there, chest heaving, body twitching, toes curling involuntarily, as the release pulsed deliciously, much more powerful than when he brought himself off. He couldn't believe how good that felt. Mark licked his cock clean, making Anthony sigh as aftershocks went through him.
Mark came up to kiss him deeply. Anthony had never tasted himself before and now he tasted the lingering notes on Mark's tongue, lightly salty-sweet. Mark smiled and rubbed noses with him before kissing him again. "How's that?"
"That was..." Anthony laughed, euphoria swirling through him. "Holy shit, that was amazing." He felt himself grinning so hard it made his face hurt a little. "You are very talented."
"You are... very inspiring." Mark kissed him again, and started grinding against his thigh again - Anthony could feel how hard Mark was, and Mark's precum was also making his thigh wet. Anthony shivered, turned on again by the heat in Mark's eyes, the fierce look on his face, the hard cock rubbing against him. A few kisses later, Anthony hardened up again too, ready for another round. Ready for so much more.
Their cocks started rubbing together again, as they kissed and kissed, each kiss longer, deeper, hungrier than the last. Between kisses Mark licked his tongue against Anthony's, playful and sensual. Anthony wanted to return the favor of worshiping Mark's body, but before he could roll Mark onto his back, Mark licked his way down from Anthony's throat to his navel, his gaze holding Anthony's, and then he licked down Anthony's shaft. Anthony groaned, his hands in Mark's hair again.
Mark licked back up the shaft, and then down, up and down, tongue taking long, slow strokes. Anthony panted, writhed, desperate. Mark laughed softly, and gently blew at the head of Anthony's cock before his tongue lashed away, then licked again around and around the head, slow and soft, teasing.
As Mark licked at Anthony's cock, his hand cupped and rubbed the balls. Anthony enjoyed that too, and even more when Mark moved down to lick his balls, gently suck at them. Mark's fingers strayed and brushed between Anthony's balls and ass, and Anthony gasped, cock throbbing at how good that felt. Soon Mark's tongue was there too, and his finger began to trace slow, lazy circles around the rim of Anthony's opening.
Mark slid up, keeping his finger rubbing circles around the passage, and kissed and nibbled Anthony's left thigh. Anthony saw Mark noticing the scar there. "I fell out of a tree when I was twelve. Broke my femur, had a metal plate in my leg." He didn't want to tell Mark the whole story about how he fell out of the tree, as that was trauma that he still had nightmares about from time to time, and as understanding as Mark was, he still felt deeply ashamed of the bullying that had driven him up the tree, not strong enough to fight back, not powerful enough to make them stop. But even without telling Mark exactly what had happened, Mark seemed to know it wasn't just a physical scar but an emotional one - like Mark's hand - and Mark rubbed his nose against the scar before giving it a tender little kiss. Just that sweet little kiss set Anthony ablaze once more, wanting Mark so badly it hurt. "Please," Anthony urged.
"Have to get you ready first. OK?"
Anthony nodded.
"Relax." With that, Mark stopped tracing circles around his opening and pushed a finger inside, watching Anthony closely.
It was tight, then less tight. After a couple of strokes in and out, Mark's finger found something inside him like a magic button that felt incredible. Anthony let out a deep sigh as Mark's finger rubbed at it. "Oh my god."
"Like that?"
"Yes."
Mark grinned, and kissed Anthony's thigh, nibbled.
Mark's finger continued to work in and out of him, pleasuring that sweet spot again and again. Then one finger became two. The feeling of fullness made the rubbing inside him more intense. It was even more intense with three fingers, and Anthony found himself rolling his hips, not able to help it, fucking himself gently on Mark's fingers, moaning softly as Mark's fingers electrified him, rubbing just right. Nothing had ever felt so good. He was in awe of the way Mark was making him feel, as if he were a musical instrument that Mark were playing, his pleasure a composition.
Mark stopped fingering him, and Anthony made a little whine of protest. Mark chuckled, and gave Anthony's stomach by the left side of his navel a small, tender kiss. Then, with that wicked look on his face again, Mark slid down, and Anthony felt Mark's tongue trace circles around his passage. After a few laps, Mark's tongue pushed inside him.
Anthony cried out again, not able to help it. Mark covered Anthony's mouth and Anthony moaned through Mark's hand as Mark licked the inside of him with passion, groaning into him, like he was eating a delicious piece of fruit. Mark's tongue rubbing away at that place inside him made Anthony crazy, writhing, fists grabbing the sheets and at Mark's hair. The pleasure started to climb again, but orgasm glimmered just out of reach, Mark pushing him farther and farther yet keeping him away from the finish, the pleasure so strong it made Anthony's thighs quiver, almost sobbing, head dizzy with overpowering sensation.
"My beautiful boy." Mark's tongue circled around the opening again and then licked inside him more slowly, teasing and teasing. Anthony howled into Mark's hand and Mark laughed at his torment, continuing to work his tongue achingly slowly. Anthony gasped for breath, trembling, feeling like he was going to die from this, his need so strong, but never wanting Mark to stop...
Mark finally relented. He chased the precum flowing down Anthony's shaft with his tongue, sucked slowly at the head while their eyes held, and took a few slow, sensual licks at the head of Anthony's cock before coming up and opening the drawer of his bedtable. He pulled out a package of condoms and a bottle of lubricant. Anthony watched, heart racing, as Mark ripped open a condom packet with his teeth, then watched as Mark rolled the condom over his hard cock.
"How do you want it?" Mark asked.
"Er." Anthony gave a nervous laugh. "Virgin, remember? I... don't know?"
"Fair, sorry. There are a few different positions. You could sit on it and ride me. You could lay on your stomach - that would probably be easiest for your first time. You could lie on your back -"
"On my back." The other two didn't sound terrible - the idea of riding him sounded hot - but... "I want to look into your pretty eyes."
Mark smiled. He kissed the tip of Anthony's nose, then kissed him deeply, with all the promise of passion between them, tongues moving together like the way Mark would soon move inside him. A shiver went down Anthony's spine. Mark was intimidatingly big, but he wanted this. He wanted to give himself to the man he'd fallen for, he wanted to feel him, wanted to hold Mark with all of him.
Mark took one of the pillows. "I'm going to slip this under you, it'll help," he said.
Anthony nodded. He bent his knees, lifted his hips, and Mark fit the pillow under him. Then Mark slicked his fingers, worked them inside Anthony again, and coated the condom with lube. Mark settled down over Anthony, hooking Anthony's right leg around him, and Anthony's breath hitched as he felt the tip of Mark's cock at his opening.
Mark started to push in. It was a bit tighter than Mark's three fingers had been, fuller - so full that Anthony felt like he was being split. There was a burning, pinching sensation that brought tears to Anthony's eyes and he couldn't help the little whimper that escaped.
"Do you need me to stop?" Mark gave him a concerned look.
Anthony shook his head vehemently. He had a feeling that the pain would go away and give way to pleasure similar to what he'd felt from Mark's fingers and tongue - he doubted so many gay men did this if it was unbearable. "Keep going," Anthony gritted out. "I can take it."
Mark stroked his face. "Take deep breaths. Push out around me, it'll help."
Anthony did as he was told, and that did help, the pain lessening in intensity, and it helped Mark continue to push into him. When Mark was all the way inside him, Anthony let out a gasp at the shock of being stretched... and a sigh of relief. They did it. Mark was in.
Mark tenderly kissed his brow. "Good boy."
Anthony loved that. He grabbed Mark's face and drew him down into a deep, needy kiss. Mark groaned into the kiss, and as they kissed, Mark worked his hips back, pulling out of him a little. Then Mark thrust forward, filling him again.
"So tight." Mark shivered and let out a gasp. He started kissing Anthony's neck, his hips rocking back, then forward. Back, then forward. Out, and in.
Mark's cock hit that spot. It was like the pleasure from his fingers and tongue had been put on an amplifier. "Oh fuck!"
"You OK?" Mark's eyes were all concern again.
"Oh god, fuck me..."
Mark growled and nipped Anthony's neck, licked it, continued to kiss it as his hips rolled, thrusting gently at first, rubbing that sweet spot inside him slowly. Anthony quivered, panting, the pleasure so intense he almost cried. When Mark sped up inside him, rubbing away, Anthony's nails dug in Mark's back. He let out a cry and Mark kissed him hard. "Shhhhh." Mark kissed him again.
They kissed and kissed, Mark's cock hitting that perfect note over and over, Anthony moaning and Mark groaning into their kisses. They were trying to keep the noise down, but Anthony didn't know how well they were succeeding, and he didn't even care. The only thing in the world that mattered was Mark's cock pleasing him, the pleasure-tension building, climbing, sizzling, the passion of Mark's hungry kisses immolating him.
"So tight. Hells, you feel so good." Mark gave a little growl and bit Anthony's neck.
Their eyes met and Anthony let out a shuddery gasp. He needed to come, but he wanted to stay lost in this beautiful place as long as possible, this gift of being one flesh, one need, one hunger. He had never felt so close to someone in his life as he did right now, giving and taking, making each other feel something so wondrous, so right. This was as natural as the sun rising, the rain falling, the tides of the sea. Their bodies fit together over and over, they fit together, they belonged.
Mark reached down and began to stroke Anthony's cock. Feeling the vise-like grip around his cock, the rhythm around him and inside him, brought Anthony to that edge again. He let out a breathy moan and Mark kissed him, responding with a deep grunt of his own. They were both close - Mark was shaking, gasping for breath between kisses.
There it was. Their eyes met, and Anthony exhaled, Mark breathing his breath. Anthony couldn't even make words to let Mark know he was right there. Those silver eyes were like star fire, burning him up. Anthony panted as he came all over himself, all over Mark. Three hard thrusts later Mark was shuddering against him, moaning into Anthony's shoulder. Mark picked his head up and sighed, a beatific look on his face. Mark's joy mirrored his own, and Anthony grinned, laughing for no reason, he just felt damn good.
They kissed, and Mark rested inside him for a moment. Anthony made a little noise of protest as Mark slipped out of him, and rolled away to peel off the spent condom and toss it in the wastebasket. Mark quickly tangled around him again, pulling him close. Mark rubbed his nose in Anthony's hair and kissed the top of his head.
"Thank you," Anthony said, snuggling up to him.
"Thank you." Mark's arms tightened around him and squeezed. "That was fun."
"I... really loved that." Anthony wanted to say I really love YOU, but he didn't. This was sex - he knew Mark liked him, but he didn't know if Mark loved him, and he didn't want to ruin the happy mood if the feelings were mismatched. It was enough, right now, that they'd done this, which was more than Anthony had ever expected.
"We'll have to do it again. If you want to." Mark looked into his eyes.
"I want to." Anthony nodded.
"Do you have plans this weekend?"
"You, if you're free."
"Very." Mark smiled and gave him a little kiss.
Anthony rested, listening to the thrum of Mark's heartbeat, feeling cozy and safe in Mark's arms. He drifted off to sleep like that. Some time later he awoke to a cold spot in the bed, and a frisson of panic, feeling like he'd been abandoned. He reminded himself this was Mark's dorm, it wasn't like they were in his dorm with Mark slipping out in the middle of the night, but he still felt uncomfortable until Mark came back in, wearing a T-shirt, boxers, and a pair of Birkenstocks, which made Anthony laugh sleepily.
"I had to put the laundry in the dryer," Mark explained.
"Oh. OK." Anthony had forgotten all about the laundry.
Mark took off the sandals and undressed and climbed back in bed with him. Mark pulled up the covers around him and Anthony savored the feeling of skin on skin, satisfying a hunger he didn't know he had. Snuggled back into Mark's arms, with Mark petting him, Anthony fell back asleep quickly.
In the morning Mark took Anthony back to his dorm - even though Anthony's shirt was freshly laundered, Mark let Anthony borrow one of his shirts. It was a little too long for him, but that was OK. It was another piece of Mark.
Anthony moved gingerly, wincing a little - he felt deliciously sore, well-used from last night. Mark stepped inside Anthony's dorm room to give him a kiss goodbye and as they kissed, he playfully groped and rubbed Anthony's ass.
"I should let you rest tonight," Mark said.
Anthony frowned. He'd miss Mark, but he also understood the logic in that, he would need at least a day to recover.
"Tomorrow, though - tomorrow morning, you want me to come get you? We can spend the day record shopping, maybe book shopping too. Then tomorrow night..." Mark leered.
Anthony nodded. He was already giddy.
They kissed one more time, and lingered, looking into each other's eyes. Mark kissed Anthony's brow, and stroked his face. He tousled Anthony's hair on the way out.
Anthony flopped down on his bed, laughing, feeling like he was high. Then he wished he hadn't landed so hard, twinging. He looked at the clock - he needed to start getting ready for school. He wished he didn't have classes today. But he would be spending this weekend with Mark, and that more than made up for it.
Life was good. Life was beautiful, in a way he'd never dared hope to be possible.
chapter 6 | return to Learning To Fly | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index