Sören's heart skipped a beat. This was the worst possible time for Justin to show up. He knew he'd told Justin to come back in a week seven days ago, but he wasn't expecting Justin to take him this literally, considering Justin wasn't exactly great at upholding appointments and timetables outside of his football career.
Justin banged on the door again. "Let me bloody in."
"I've got a plan," Anthony whispered. "Tell him to wait a minute."
"Just a minute," Sören yelled. Then he looked back at Anthony.
Anthony's hands madly tousled Sören's hair, and then he whispered, "Unbutton your shirt."
Sören raised an eyebrow. It sounded like Anthony thought he should try to make Justin jealous, regret what he was missing, or perhaps flirt as a weapon. Sören was skeptical, but he began to undo the buttons of his shirt. Anthony gave the thumbs-up, leapt off the couch, and dashed to the bathroom.
When Sören's shirt was completely undone, he went to the door and opened it. Justin was standing with his arms folded, scowling. He marched in like he owned the place. "All right, you got my stuff?"
"Yeah." Sören gestured to the kitchen area, where the remainder of Justin's belongings had been packed into three large garbage bags.
Justin's glare intensified. "You couldn't have found some boxes or something?"
Sören snorted. "After what you did, be grateful I didn't throw this shit out."
Justin rolled his eyes. "Fine. Go on then, bring it over."
Sören put his hands on his hips and gave Justin a look. "Do I look like your fucking servant? I'm done waiting on you, Justin. Mr. Strong Football Guy can carry three bags out of here."
Justin hesitated, and then he sneered and licked his lips, like he was a wolf who had just seen dinner... and Sören felt his adrenaline rising. For a moment he was actually afraid that Justin was going to hit him, and he felt himself reflexively taking a step back, then another, body tensing, heart hammering.
Sören heard the sound of the bathroom sink, and then Anthony stepped out. Sören's mouth opened at the sight of him - Anthony had taken off his sweater and was now shirtless. He'd mussed his hair, and bitten his lips to make them look kiss-swollen, like the two of them had been in a makeout session before Justin showed up.
He also looked delicious. Sören was already attracted to him - Sören thought Anthony was much sexier than Justin - but now he couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips at the sight of Anthony with his shirt off. A light covering of black hair dusted his pecs and the center of his chest, and there was a treasure trail of black hair leading down from his navel. His stomach was flat, and he had some definition in his pecs and biceps, veins in his forearms, without being too bulky and looking like a gym rat. He was pale and unblemished, pink nipples hard in the evening air. Sören wanted to lick his chest hair, his nipples, follow the treasure trail with his tongue. He couldn't string two thoughts together that didn't involve Anthony panting and writhing.
"Oh! I didn't realize you had a guest." Anthony folded his arms, and rocked back on his heels, playing dumb.
Sören played along. "Anthony, this is my ex, Justin. Justin, this is -"
"We've met," Justin said coolly. Then he glanced back at Sören and was back to glaring. "Seems you moved on quick."
Anthony came over to Sören and put an arm around him. "Well, now he has a real man, and not a fuckboy like you." He played with a lock of Sören's curls, a smug smile on his face. Sören couldn't help smiling back, delighted at Anthony's barb.
Justin huffed and stormed past to get his bags. As he started lugging them towards the door, he gave them another filthy look.
"Wait, I have something for you," Anthony said to Justin.
Sören wondered if Anthony was going to deck him, and while that thought thrilled him - and aroused him - Sören also had a feeling Justin would have Anthony arrested for assault and the moment of gratification wouldn't be worth the weeks or months of legal fallout. But Anthony did something even better. Anthony took his wallet out of his jeans pocket and handed Justin a hundred-pound note. "Here, go buy a dildo and fuck yourself," Anthony said, a big grin on his face. Sören covered his mouth, shaking with badly contained laughter. Yes, he very much liked Anthony.
Justin grabbed the money, then threw it back at Anthony. "Piss off!" he snarled.
He picked up the bags again and continued carrying them to the door. He had to put them down to open the door, since neither Sören nor Anthony was going to be his doorman. As Justin put the bags down, Anthony drew Sören into his arms for one last twist of the knife. "Now, where were we, darling?" Anthony leaned in and gave Sören a deep, passionate kiss.
Whether or not it was staged on Anthony's end, it was very, very real on Sören's end. He heard himself moan again as their tongues met, swirling together sensually, hungrily. Out of the corner of Sören's eye he saw Justin watching them kiss, and Justin's nostrils flared before he hauled the bags out the door. Justin slammed the door behind him, and the kiss continued for a few more seconds.
For caution's sake, Sören went over to the door to lock it and put on the chain, and then he went back over to where Anthony was standing. "Thank you," Sören said, breathless.
"You're welcome." Anthony nodded.
They looked at each other for a long moment as if they were each waiting for the other to make the next move. Sören thought about asking for another kiss. He didn't have to ask. Anthony stepped forward, heat in his eyes. He grabbed Sören's face, and kissed him again. Sören's hands reached up to touch Anthony's hands, and his hands slid over Anthony's forearms, enjoying the silky feel of the hair there. Then Sören's hands were on Anthony's chest, needing to feel there, too, caressing up and down, slowly. His thumb brushed a nipple and Anthony groaned. Their tongues licked together before Sören led the next kiss, and as they kissed, his thumb played with a nipple, rubbing it back and forth and in circles, before he pinched it. Anthony moaned and pulled Sören closer, letting Sören feel that he was already hard in his jeans. Sören's breath hitched and he kissed along Anthony's jaw, playing with the other nipple, before he began kissing and licking Anthony's neck.
Anthony's fingers brushed down Sören's spine, making him shiver, before his hands cupped and rubbed Sören's ass. Sören nibbled Anthony's neck and that produced a growl. "Fuck, I want you," Anthony husked.
Sören kissed the sweet hollow where neck and shoulder met, and the moan Anthony let out drove Sören out of his mind with lust. Sören's own cock was hard too, but that could wait awhile. Sören claimed Anthony's mouth again, and after their tongues played some more Anthony sucked on Sören's lower lip. Sören's tongue teased down Anthony's neck, down his chest; Sören got on his knees and licked all the way down Anthony's stomach, undoing his jeans, pulling down jeans and boxer-briefs as his tongue traced the treasure trail, loving the way Anthony moaned and sighed as Sören's tongue explored him. When Anthony's hard cock was free, Sören's lips wrapped around it, eyes locked with Anthony's as he swallowed down as deep as it could go.
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