Mark came by to pick up Anthony in the late morning on Saturday - though Anthony liked to sleep in on the weekends, he was up for a few hours when Mark arrived, giddy at the prospect of seeing him again... eager for spending the night with him.
But it wasn't just sex for Anthony, it was enjoying Mark's company; indeed, liking Mark as a person just made him all the sexier. So as much as Anthony would have gladly spent an afternoon in bed with Mark doing nothing but making love, he was equally glad for what Mark had planned.
They started off visiting a couple of record shops, so Anthony could begin building a vinyl collection of his own, and so Mark could look for music to add to his own collection. Anthony was once again impressed by Mark's knowledge about different musical genres and artists, and the range of Mark's musical tastes. Mark had also gone to a lot of concerts, which Anthony found fascinating. He'd only been to a few in the span of nineteen years, but each one was memorable, and he wanted to go to more live performances. He hated crowds, but there was something magical about live music - like the music itself was living. Anthony never got tired of hearing Mark talk about concerts he'd seen, though it did make him wonder once again what Mark's life had been like.
After the record shops, Mark said, "You don't have a record player." It was a statement of fact, not a question.
"No, I don't." Anthony felt a little sheepish - he had started collecting vinyl records without one.
So the next order of business was to visit an antique shop. There was a small selection of used record players, relics from the 1970s and 1980s, and Mark was picky about how they worked, insisting to test them out first. When he deemed one acceptable, Anthony looked at the price tag and balked. He came from money, and received a living allowance from his parents each month, but this was most of a month's allowance.
"It's on me," Mark said. "You can consider it part of your birthday present."
"You're too generous." Anthony's face burned. "I don't think I can accept -"
"You will," Mark said, meeting his eyes.
The record player was going to need speakers. Mark also insisted on buying the speakers that he'd used to test the performance quality of the record players, and a shelf to put everything on. They loaded up Mark's car with the shelf, the record player and vintage speakers, and when Mark pulled out of the parking lot, Anthony sat there in disbelief - both at Mark's generosity and that any of this was happening at all, feeling like he'd entered some sort of secret society of appreciating older things.
They went to a used bookstore and Mark made suggestions for different poets - Pablo Neruda, Dylan Thomas, and ee cummings. Anthony snickered at the last name "Cummings", not able to help it, and Mark gave him a stern look and then laughed too, before giving Anthony a swat with the book.
Their final destination was a walk at Christ's Pieces. On the snowy path through the bare winter trees, they watched the sunset and the snow falling. With no one around to see, Mark took Anthony's gloved hand in his. Just that simple little act of affection made Anthony tingle, his heart soaring. He smiled at Mark, who smiled back. Anthony fought the urge to kiss him - they couldn't chance that in public, even when there were so few other people in the park right now - but holding Mark's hand was everything. And when they got back in the car, Mark did steal a kiss, their first of the day. Anthony melted, his body aching for more... so much more.
While the record player and speakers would have been fine in Mark's trunk overnight, he wanted to help Anthony set it up right away, and Mark's enthusiasm was infectious. So rather than going back to Mark's dorm, they went to Anthony's dorm and Mark spent the next hour putting together the sound system. Once it was set up, they broke it in with one of the records Anthony bought - Stevie Wonder's Original Musiquarium I, something his mother played often when he was a child... one of the albums Anthony taught himself to play piano to.
Anthony thought about bringing that up to Mark, but he felt like a poseur, since it was just a hobby for him and he was nowhere near as musically talented. So he held his peace. Instead, he simply listened, and took in all the subtle nuances of the richer sound of vinyl.
They decided to order a pizza, and it occurred to Anthony that they were probably going to be spending the night at his dorm instead of Mark's. Nobody had seen Mark come in with him, as far as Anthony knew, and so long as they kept it down later it would probably be OK, but there was still that prickle of apprehension that someone would find out Anthony spent the night with a man. He also felt self-conscious about how spartan his dorm was compared to Mark's - he hadn't been planning on doing a lot of entertaining; while he was lonely and ached for more friends, he had come to school to learn, not to socialize, and his room reflected that. Yet, Mark seemed at home, fully focused on the music, looking like he was having a religious experience. Looking beautiful. And his anxiety was outweighed, and eventually replaced by his desire, watching Mark lost in the music, somewhat in awe of him.
After the pizza they continued to listen to music; Anthony sometimes played solitaire on breaks from studying, and produced his deck of cards, and he and Mark played a few rounds of gin rummy. As it got later, and they did indeed seem to not be headed back to Mark's, Anthony wanted to be polite, and asked, "Do you want to borrow a pair of pajamas?" Then he felt sheepish, remembering Mark had close to a foot on him and they would be too small. "Er, not that they'd fit well..."
"Do we really need pajamas for what we're doing in a bit?" Mark raised an eyebrow, then gave a wicked smile.
Anthony's face burned. Then he remembered Mark's questions before the last time they'd had sex - he'd showered last night before bed. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"
"Not at all."
Anthony thought about inviting Mark to join him, but the shower was really only big enough for one person and Anthony figured Mark probably took ages to wash his hair. Mark's comment got him all flustered and once in the shower, being naked with his hands soaping his body made his anticipation for sex grow stronger. He couldn't stop thinking about what they'd done Thursday night, how much he enjoyed it, how much he wanted to do it again. By the time he was done with the shower he was rock-hard, and when he came out with a towel around his waist, Anthony heard a wolf whistle. He looked over and saw Mark laying on the bed, naked... also hard and ready.
Anthony let the towel drop to the floor, his cock jolting at the sight of Mark in his naked glory, the knowledge that Mark enjoyed what he saw. Anthony joined Mark on the bed, which was a tight fit for two tall men, and Mark pulled Anthony down into a kiss.
"You know," Mark husked, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."
Anthony grinned, delighted by that, so much so that he couldn't make words in response.
Mark kissed him again. And again. Their hard cocks bumped up each other and began to rub as Mark kissed and licked Anthony's neck and shoulder. Anthony trembled, cock throbbing. He gasped as Mark's fingers played through his chest hair, and again as Mark's thumb brushed a nipple. Mark laughed softly, and nibbled Anthony's neck before kissing it some more.
Somehow, Anthony found words. "You've been on my mind too." Anthony reached to caress Mark's chest, those strong, sculpted arms, wanting to feel everywhere he could touch. "You get me so fucking hot."
Mark chuckled again and kissed him. "You don't say."
"It's not just your body." Anthony looked down at Mark's cock rubbing on his, dripping precum. "Though... it's very nice." Idiot, Anthony scolded himself, it's more than just "very nice". Anthony looked up and their eyes met; Anthony's mind's eye recalled Mark listening to music, how beautiful he was lost in the song... like he was a part of the musical landscape weaving around him. Anthony thought about telling Mark it's your heart but that sounded too romantic - he didn't want to scare Mark away - so he went with the next best thing, something that was also true. He kissed Mark's forehead. "It's your mind, too."
Their eyes met again and Mark stopped grinding on him, looking deadly serious now. Then Mark climbed off the bed. For an instant Anthony worried that he'd said the wrong thing, that he'd made an ass of himself, and Mark was turned off and going to put his clothes back on and leave. But instead, Mark went over to the bag of books from the used bookstore, and came back to the bed with one of the books - as he got closer, Anthony saw it was a hardcover of ee cummings.
Mark sat on the edge of the bed, thumbed through until he found the right page, and said, "You're not a lady, but this still applies, I think." He cleared his throat and read aloud:
Lady, i will touch you with my mind.
Touch you and touch and touch
until you give
me suddenly a smile, shyly obscene
(lady i will
touch you with my mind.)Touch
you,that is all,
lightly and you utterly will become
with infinite care
the poem which i do not write.
Mark looked up from the book and said, "And you become the song which I do not write."
Anthony broke out into gooseflesh, and his eyes stung with unshed tears. But Mark hadn't just touched him, stirring an ineffable mixture of feelings, he'd unlocked something like a secret door inside Anthony where wild, untamed passion lived, and now Anthony found himself snatching the book out of Mark's hand, putting it on the bedtable, still open to that page, and shoving Mark down, settling over him and kissing him as deeply as he could... wanting to express that raw, primal surge of emotion with his body.
Anthony gave Mark a few more hungry kisses, then kissed Mark's neck and shoulder, kissed down to Mark's nipples. He licked and suckled one, then the other, going back and forth between them, using his hand to pinch and rub one as his mouth worked on the other. He rubbed against Mark's thigh, electrified by the way Mark groaned, the fevered look in those silver eyes as Anthony teased him. The sight of Mark's nipples pebbled and glistening from his mouth drove Anthony mad with lust and he sucked harder, tugging the nipple with his lips, then his teeth, before his tongue lashed fast and furious, fucking it, then swirling around and around the nipple. Mark groaned and clutched at Anthony's head.
"We have to be quiet," Anthony whispered with a smirk, echoing Mark's words that first night together.
But that got harder for Mark to do as Anthony moved down from Mark's nipples to his stomach, tracing the definition in Mark's abs with his tongue, kissing, giving little love bites. He sucked and nibbled at Mark's sides, licked and nipped at Mark's inner thighs. Mark writhed, arched to him, panting, not able to help little moans. Anthony's tongue slid up the seam of Mark's crotch, and he nuzzled Mark's lovely dark bush, breathing in the musk-and-petrichor sent of him, before he hovered above Mark's hard, precum-slick cock.
Anthony took a deep breath. He'd never sucked cock before - he'd brought himself off thinking about doing so dozens if not hundreds of times - and he hoped he wouldn't be bad at it, wanting to please this man who had stolen his heart. Anthony supposed it helped that they had the same equipment, and let himself recall the blowjob Mark had given him. He internally counted to three, and went in.
Anthony tried to take the entire thing in his mouth and ended up gagging. As he pulled the cock out of his mouth, Mark gave him a sympathetic look. Anthony was frustrated with himself - goddammit, he was going to learn how to suck cock if it killed him - and in his fierce determination to try again, he bobbed right back down, once again to gag as Mark's long, thick cock was more than he could manage.
"Don't try to take all of it at once," Mark said softly, petting Anthony's hair. "Take in what you can. Besides... the head is the most sensitive part, so the more focus on that, the better."
"Right." Anthony nodded, cheeks burning - he still wanted to learn how to deep-throat, sometime, but for now... He took another deep breath and wrapped his lips around it. He could only get the first few inches in comfortably. He worked with that, moving back and forth, his hand reaching down to rub the rest of the shaft. Mark groaned and bucked, grabbing Anthony's shoulders.
"Yes," Mark breathed. "You're doing good."
Anthony hoped Mark wasn't just saying that to be polite, but as he continued his rhythm on Mark's cock, his mouth suctioning around it as tight as he could, hand stroking up and down the bottom of Mark's shaft, he knew that Mark's ragged breathing and the way he quivered, the way his cock pulsed in Anthony's mouth, didn't lie. Feeling more confident, Anthony got into it, rubbing his tongue as much as he could with his mouth full, making Mark moan again. Anthony's own cock was almost painfully hard - he knew he'd like sucking cock, but the reality was even better than the fantasy. He loved it. He felt like an addict craving a drug, devouring Mark, greedy for it. Mark covered his mouth and moaned through his hand, eyes fluttering. His free hand tugged on Anthony's hair, and Anthony loved that too, wanting to feel Mark's unbridled passion and need.
Anthony continued sucking, and then after a few minutes his jaw needed a rest. He let Mark's cock slip from his mouth, and after his hand stroked Mark's cock for a moment, he switched it up, licking at Mark's cock. Mark's breath hitched and he sighed deeply, quivering. "Good," Mark whispered.
Anthony smiled and licked at the head of Mark's cock. Mark shuddered and bucked, letting out a soft cry. Anthony laughed. "We have to be quiet," Anthony said, just before he drew the head of Mark's cock into his mouth.
Anthony kissed at just the head, sucked, worked his tongue, hand rubbing up and down the shaft. Mark writhed, trying to restrain his moans. Anthony savored the taste of Mark's precum, chased the flow down the shaft with his tongue, and then sucked at the head some more. He lapped at the frenulum, knowing how sensitive it was for him and guessing Mark was sensitive there too - he guessed correctly. Mark panted, grit his teeth and gave a little growl. Anthony couldn't help reaching down to stroke himself now, but when the touch of his hand threatened to bring him off, he stopped and moved his hand up Mark's thigh.
He fit another couple of inches into his mouth and sucked like he was starving for it. One hand played with Mark's balls and the other rubbed at the bottom of the shaft. Mark's nails dug into Anthony's shoulders and he warned, "Getting close."
"Mmmmmmmmmm," Anthony encouraged, meeting his eyes.
Anthony wanted to taste Mark. He gave it his all, singular in his determination to make Mark come. It didn't take much longer. Mark tensed, his eyes widened, and then he gasped and whispered, "Anthony." His hands tightened on Anthony's shoulders. "Anthony..."
Mark threw back his head and gave a shuddery sigh as he spent. There was so much of it that Anthony almost choked, some of it spilling out of his mouth. Mark's seed was subtle - lightly salty-sweet - and Anthony swallowed. He let Mark's shaft glide in his mouth once more to get the rest of his cum, then came up to kiss him. Mark groaned into the kiss, pulling Anthony close. Mark gave Anthony a squeeze and they nuzzled before kissing again.
"You did great," Mark said, smiling. "You're a fast learner."
Anthony grinned. "Learning is fun."
Mark looked down at Anthony's hard cock, dripping precum on his thigh. "I think you need a reward."
Anthony lay back, and after a few kisses, tongues playing together between kisses, Mark kissed his way down Anthony's body, heat in his eyes. Their eyes locked as Mark took Anthony's cock in his mouth. Anthony was so worked up from sucking Mark off and Mark's mouth was so good that Anthony almost came right away, but he made himself hold back just a little, wanting to enjoy the sight of his cock in Mark's mouth, the hungry look on Mark's face as Mark pleasured him.
"This is getting me hard all over again," Mark rasped before he licked at the head. Anthony groaned and grabbed a lock of Mark's hair.
Mark sucked just the head for a minute, kissing it, and Anthony moaned again. Mark gave him a mock stern look, eyes laughing - he kissed Anthony's hip as his finger slid up Anthony's chest, brushing a nipple, to rest against Anthony's lips. "Quiet," Mark said, smiling before he kissed Anthony's hip again, nibbled at it.
Then Mark sucked him in earnest, hard and fast, like he was fucking Anthony with his mouth. Anthony tried not to moan. He heard himself breathing harder, gasping, getting closer and closer and closer, finally right there, eyes meeting Mark's, and when Mark hummed "mmmhmmmmm" around his cock, Anthony gave in, panting as he twitched and heaved, toes curling as the pleasure throbbed through him, shooting in Mark's mouth. When Mark's mouth was full of his seed he still kept coming, shooting again on Mark's face as Mark pulled back to swallow. Mark groaned, and Anthony did too, enjoying the debauched sight of his cum on Mark's face.
Mark slid up, and Anthony lovingly licked his seed off Mark's face, then kissed him, sharing it. Mark rubbed against Anthony's thigh - he wasn't kidding about being hard again. When Mark started kissing his neck Anthony hardened back up too.
"You want to get in more practice?" Mark's lips quirked.
Anthony nodded eagerly, smiling. They laughed, kissed again, and then Mark adjusted his position, laying on his side with his head level with Anthony's thighs, his cock near Anthony's face.
Sucking Mark's cock while Mark sucked his was exhilarating, a whole new level of pleasure. Anthony felt utterly spoiled, and as much as he wanted to take his time and savor, he got more and more aroused, sucking Mark hungrily, Mark devouring him with just as much passion, and Anthony came within minutes, his second orgasm even more intense than the first. Mark came a few seconds after Anthony did, as if Anthony coming in his mouth turned him on enough to make him come too. The thought of that made Anthony spurt again, and then he lay there, euphoric, feeling like his brain had melted and his body had turned to jelly. Mark turned himself and rested his head on Anthony's chest and Anthony pet Mark's hair but otherwise couldn't move. He felt like he was floating.
Mark smiled at him, picked up his head, and gave Anthony a tender little kiss. "Very, very good."
Anthony smiled back. He couldn't make words. He let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes, letting himself fade.
He ended up falling asleep - some time later he woke briefly to feel Mark spooning him, Mark's chest against his back, Mark's arm around his waist. Anthony pushed back to snuggle closer and Mark's arm tightened around him. He had worried about the two of them not sleeping well with so little space on the small bed, but this was nice and cozy, and sleep quickly pulled Anthony back under.
Anthony woke again just before the dawn. Mark was still in bed with him, and as Anthony got up to use the bathroom, he lingered for a moment to watch Mark sleep. Anthony had morning wood, which was normal, and the sight of Mark naked in his bed - the memories of what they had done last night - inflamed him with lust all over again. After Anthony did his business, he cleaned up carefully, and tiptoed back to his bed.
For a few moments he watched Mark sleep, perfectly at peace. He admired the silky waves of blue-black hair, the long lashes framing his cheeks, the lovely face, the toned body. Mark looked so serene in his sleep that Anthony was almost reluctant to disturb him, but he wanted. Nonetheless, he was gentle as he rained kisses over Mark's face. Mark gave a sleepy smile and a chuckle before he gave Anthony a tender little kiss in return. Mark kissed the tip of Anthony's nose and their lips met again, and this time parted, their tongues teasing. Anthony ran his hands over Mark's body and started kissing Mark's neck and shoulder. "Need you," he said, surprised by the breathiness of his voice.
Mark grinned and stretched, like a lazy cat. He pulled Anthony into another deep kiss and reached down, taking both their hard cocks into his fist. Anthony moaned at the vise-like grip of Mark's hand, the velvet steel of Mark's cock, rubbing lusciously against his own.
Anthony thought of Thursday night. He wanted to feel Mark inside him again. He remembered Mark talking about other positions. He nipped Mark's lower lip and growled, "I want to ride you."
Mark's eyes widened with surprise, then his face lit up and he laughed, seemingly pleased by that, before kissing Anthony deeply, fiercely. "I'd like that," Mark husked.
Then Anthony facepalmed, looking over at the bedtable. He had lube, which he made frequent use of for jerking off, but... "I don't have condoms."
In 1999, AIDS was a death sentence. And while Anthony knew not every queer man was a disease carrier, the HIV transmission rate among his kind was higher. His uncle Nigel's partner Steve had been HIV-positive. Anthony had been determined to play it safe whenever he started having sex, not wanting anything to jeopardize his future.
Mark looked into his eyes. "I don't have anything," Mark said softly. "And it had been a long time for me, before you."
Anthony believed him - even as he knew you couldn't always take someone at their word about those matters, but something told Anthony that Mark was telling the truth. Though, however long "a long time" was - months, years - seemed incongruous with Mark's life as a traveling musician, especially one as sexy as he was, and as good of a lover as Mark was. Anthony had envisioned Mark with something like a harem or throng of groupies, and hearing that hadn't been the case took him aback... and raised even more questions about Mark's life, why it had been a long time, if there were some sort of trauma or broken heart holding him back. Anthony glanced at Mark's burned hand, and then into those silver eyes. Anthony was taking a risk... but he nodded. "OK. I trust you."
Mark gave him another kiss.
Anthony lay on top of Mark and they continued grinding cock to cock, kissing. Mark slicked his fingers and pushed one, then two, into Anthony's passage, finding the sweet spot, rubbing it in circles as his fingers worked in and out. It didn't take long for Anthony to start fucking himself on Mark's fingers, panting, aching for him. "Please," Anthony said.
Mark grabbed Anthony's hips. Anthony poured the lube over Mark's cock, stroked it to work it in - his own cock jolted at the sight of Mark's glistening cock - and then he rose up, straddled Mark's hips, and Mark guided the tip of his cock to Anthony's entrance. Anthony took a deep breath and began to sink down. There was that initial pinching feeling at being stretched, and he remembered Mark's advice on Thursday to push out, doing that as he slowly moved down on Mark's cock. At last Mark was fully inside him, and Mark smiled at him sweetly. He took Anthony's hand in his burned hand, kissed it, and pressed it to his heart.
Something about the tenderness of that gesture drove Anthony wild and he started to ride, working his hips. Mark groaned, and let Anthony's hand slip from his, moved his hands around to cup and rub Anthony's ass. "Fuck, you feel amazing," Mark rasped.
Anthony leaned down to kiss him, then rose up to catch his breath. Mark's cock felt even better in this position, hitting that magic place inside him over and over again, the pleasure building and building until it overwhelmed him, Anthony riding hard like nothing else mattered, just that sweet sensation inside him. Mark was enjoying himself too, moaning softly, sighing, his hands roaming over Anthony's naked body. "You're beautiful," Mark whispered.
They kissed again, and Mark's hand wrapped around Anthony's cock, stroking. "So beautiful." Mark looked down at Anthony's cock, and up into his eyes.
With Mark's cock rubbing so deliciously inside him, and the grip of Mark's hand on his own cock, Anthony pushed right to that edge. He stayed there for an impossibly long moment, overwhelmed by pleasure and lust, needing to come but wanting to keep feeling this - keep looking at Mark, lost in passion. Then their eyes met and Mark ground out, "Getting close."
The thought of Mark coming inside him set Anthony off - just before he could cry out, Mark shoved his fingers in Anthony's mouth, and sucking Mark's fingers made his release all the more intense, shuddering as he spurted, coming so hard and so much that he didn't just spurt over Mark's torso, but some of his cum landed on the open page of the ee cummings book on the bedtable. Two thrusts later Mark gasped, flooding him. The white-hot molten flow inside him made Anthony shoot off again, making a strangled sob around the fingers in his mouth. Mark sighed, took his fingers out of Anthony's mouth, and pulled him down into a kiss.
Anthony lay there, cradled against Mark's chest, their hearts thundering together. They watched the sunrise, a brilliant hot pink fading to gold, their fingers linked. This, too, felt as intimate as sex, the closest Anthony had ever felt to someone. He looked into Mark's eyes and Mark smiled at him, before Mark tenderly kissed his brow.
Anthony thought about telling Mark I love you, but he didn't know if Mark felt the same way - if he was just a friend to Mark, a fuckbuddy - and that felt even riskier than the bareback sex they'd just had. So instead he spoke something close to that, but less dangerous. "This has been the best birthday weekend ever. Thank you."
"You are very, very welcome." Mark tousled his hair. "Thank you."
Anthony had a thousand questions about Mark's life, all of which seemed too intrusive, but one of them burned, now that he'd brought up his birthday. "When's your birthday? I'd like to spoil you, too."
Mark chuckled, and then he closed his eyes for a minute, looking like he was in deep concentration - Anthony thought it was very odd that someone had to think so hard about when their birthday was, but then, they'd both had a powerful orgasm. When Mark opened his eyes he said, "March seventeenth."
"Saint Patrick's Day."
Mark nodded. "Yeah."
That somehow felt both right and wrong at the same time; Anthony didn't understand why he felt like that and combated the unsettled feeling with a bit of levity. "You're a Pisces."
Mark snorted. "I guess so. And you're an Aquarius."
Anthony nodded. He didn't believe in horoscopes but his mother read hers - she was a Libra - so he was familiar enough with it.
Mark raised an eyebrow. "Do you know the story of Aquarius?"
"Hippies, right?"
Mark laughed at that, patted Anthony, and shook his head. "No. In Greek mythology there was a young man, a Trojan prince named Ganymede, who Zeus became infatuated with, and carried him off to Olympus and made him his immortal cupbearer." Mark stroked Anthony's cheek. "You are my Ganymede. If I could make you immortal, I would."
Anthony was deeply touched by that, but before he could start crying, he saw the cum still there on "Lady, i will touch you with my mind" by ee cummings and it sent him into a fit of hysterical laughter. Mark's eyebrows went up, and Anthony just pointed, and when Mark saw the cum on the page he facepalmed and started shaking with laughter. Then he held Anthony close, squeezing him.
"I always want to remember you like this," Mark husked, "your eyes lit up when you laugh."
Anthony kissed him. "We can make plenty of memories."
Mark kissed him and gently rolled Anthony onto his back, replying with his body, the need stirring between them once more.
chapter 7 | return to Learning To Fly | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index