[art by me and CogitatingKerfuffle, August 2021]
Sören sighed deeply, his fingers and toes curling involuntarily, as his hole contracted around Anthony's cock, his own cock pulsing. He felt Anthony shoot another jet of cum inside him, and Anthony shuddered against him, groaning. Their eyes met and Anthony moved his face closer, rubbing his nose against Sören's, smiling sweetly. Sören smiled back and their lips brushed, then their tongues played together, taking each other's hands as the orgasmic throbbing subsided, giving way to floaty, melting bliss. They rubbed noses again and kissed, smiling at each other and laughing.
Anthony stroked Sören's cheek, his curls, and kissed Sören's other cheek. They nuzzled again and stole another sweet, passionate kiss. Sören felt like he was high, and he hadn't consumed any substances. Just sex. Sören lost count of how many times he and Anthony had fucked since his heat started, how many times he'd come.
It wasn't just fucking, it was making love. Neither of them had said I love you to each other - though Sören certainly felt it - but it seemed to be expressed in every touch, every kiss, the rhythm of their bodies, pleasing each other to climax after climax. Sören had never had it so good, with anyone. He felt spoiled.
He felt addicted. It was going to be unbearable when Anthony went to London.
Sören kept that thought at bay, not wanting to disturb the peace of the orgasmic glow. Anthony's nose rubbed Sören's beard, then up Sören's cheek to rub noses again. He kissed the tip of Sören's nose, and petted Sören's sweat-damp curls. "You have such beautiful eyes," Anthony husked. "I love the way your eyes look when you smile like that."
Sören's smile got bigger. "You have pretty eyes too." He loved that shade of green. "Pretty everything." Sören bit his lower lip, glancing down to admire Anthony's toned body - the sight of Anthony's damp chest hair threatened to set him off again.
Sören liked the after-sex cuddling as much as he liked the orgasms. He snuggled closer to Anthony, giving another contented sigh as Anthony's knot rested in him, still filling him, connecting them. It felt so intimate to be welded together like this, truly one flesh. Sören felt safe with him, a sense of belonging and home that had evaded him for so long.
Anthony rested his head on Sören's shoulder and Sören pet him, admiring him. He wanted to paint Anthony, naked like this. Before he could raise the question of Anthony posing for him when the heat was over, there was a metallic chime.
It wasn't Sören's phone, he had a different default ringtone. Anthony's eyes widened and he grumbled as he reached for his phone on the small endtable next to the couch-bed. When he looked at the caller ID on the screen he glanced at Sören and said, "I have to take this, sorry."
Sören nodded. It was December twenty-fifth now and Sören had a feeling they'd get interrupted at least once by someone Anthony knew.
Anthony swiped to accept. "Mum, hi! Happy Christmas!" Anthony smiled and gave a nervous little laugh. Sören heard a deep woman's voice, muffled. He closed his eyes and let himself drift a little, not wanting to be rude and eavesdrop. Anthony's voice cut through the haze. "Trip to Iceland is going very well. I've seen some waterfalls, I went up to Akureyri and got to see the Dimmuborgir. This trip was exactly what I needed, it's really beautiful here and gives me a renewed appreciation for how wonderful the world is, how good it is to be alive."
Sören's eyes opened and their eyes met. Those words brought tears to Sören's eyes - he was very familiar with that kind of despair, and he was glad this trip had given Anthony a change of perspective. He reached out to touch Anthony's face; Anthony leaned into his touch, then took his hand and kissed it, while Anthony's mother continued to chat at him.
"Yes, Mum, I'm thinking of a return visit. Maybe you and Dad could come along next time. I can introduce you to my unofficial tour guide."
That almost sounded serious. Sören's heart leapt and his face broke into a grin. Anthony grinned back. After another few sentences from his mother, Anthony said, "Yeah, put Dad on, thanks."
A gruff voice, and then Anthony said, "Happy Christmas, Dad. How are you doing? I hope the arthritis isn't hurting too poorly."
More gruff words from his dad, and then Anthony said, "It's all right, Dad, I know she worries, and I know I wasn't in a good way when I left London so I don't blame her for worrying. But I've been... having fun. This trip is even better than I thought it would be. Lots to see." Anthony's eyes raked Sören up and down. "Lots to do." He smirked.
His dad remarked on that, and Anthony laughed and said, "Yeah actually I am in the middle of something." He smirked again, eyes dancing with mischief - Sören covered his mouth to avoid laughing aloud, not wanting to alert Anthony's parents that he was with another man. The idea of Anthony carrying on a conversation with his parents while he was knotted inside an Omega struck Sören's funny bone and by the time Anthony said his goodbyes to both of them, Sören was shaking with silent laughter. As soon as the call ended, Anthony and Sören doubled over, in hysterics.
"Oh my god. 'In the middle of something.'" Sören made air quotes.
"I'm sorry about that." Anthony turned beetroot, still laughing.
"It's all right. At least you have family to check in with you on Christmas."
Anthony frowned a little, and Sören wished he hadn't said that, not wanting to dampen the mood. Anthony kissed Sören's forehead. "I'm sorry you don't."
"Jæja, me too." Sören decided to open up a little, in the intimacy of the knot. "The reason why I take Christmas off from the bar is because... well, I can deal with people getting drunk most of the year, it's like a form of exposure therapy. I can't deal with that shit over the holidays. My aunt and uncle ruined them every year getting shit-faced."
"Jesus." Anthony's frown deepened, his eyes too bright. Sören didn't want to make him cry. "So... you just spend every Christmas by yourself?"
Sören nodded. "Jæja, though... I usually go to the hospital to visit the sick people, so I'm not sitting around feeling sorry for myself."
"That's lovely." Anthony sighed and rubbed noses with Sören again. "You're lovely."
A moment of silence hung between them - Sören fought the urge to say I love you, the urge to say for the first time it felt like he was spending Christmas with actual family. He didn't.
By Anthony's phone on the endtable, there were two bottles of water, and two bottles of Malt og Appelsín... and a small pill bottle with Sören's birth control. Anthony reached over, still knotted inside Sören, and handed Sören a bottle of the Malt og Appelsín, and his birth control. Sören scooted to sit up a little, and Anthony did as well - they laughed at the awkwardness of how they moved when they were still knotted together like this. Then Anthony took a bottle of the Malt og Appelsín for himself. They clinked bottles.
"Happy Christmas."
"Gleðileg jól, elskan." The endearment came out before Sören could stop himself, not thinking about it. He took a pill out and Anthony watched him put it in his mouth, swallowing it down with a swig of the orange-and-malt drink.
They drank and cuddled, and at last Anthony's knot went down and he pulled out. Once Sören was finished with his drink he stretched, feeling deliciously sore. He glanced down and saw how wet the sheets were from his slick and their sweat; they'd need to change the bed again.
Before Sören could get up to pull the sheets off, Anthony reached for Sören and picked him up off the bed. Sören howled and giggled as Anthony carried him down to the bathroom.
They showered together, leaning on each other, embracing, kissing. The languid tenderness gave way to passion rising again, hard cocks rubbing together as the kisses got more insistent, hungry. Anthony slammed Sören up against the shower wall, pinned his wrists, and kissed him hard, making Sören quiver, whimper.
Anthony started to kiss and lick his neck again, and growled, grinding against him harder. Sören bit his lower lip and moaned, resisting the impulse to beg Anthony to bite him, claim him. Anthony hadn't, the countless times they'd fucked since the heat started, and Sören was desperately aching for it, even though he knew it was a bad idea, with an ocean separating them. This was just a fling that would be over in a few days. They barely knew each other.
And yet, looking into those green eyes, Sören felt like he'd seen inside Anthony's soul, and he liked what he saw there. He felt taken care of. My Alpha.
Anthony kissed Sören's shoulder, kissed down to a nipple. Sören threw back his head and cried out as Anthony started licking his nipple - they were so sensitive, especially when he was in heat like this - then the other. Suckling one, then the other. Hard, fast lashes, then more gentle flutters. Back and forth, lapping, sucking, making Sören pant and whimper, aching for him all over again.
Anthony dropped to his knees, and gave Sören a mischievous smirk before his lips wrapped around the head of Sören's cock. Sören cried out at the wonderful feel of Anthony's mouth on his cock... the heat in Anthony's eyes. Anthony sucked slowly, their eyes locked, and Sören grabbed his shoulders, hands trembling. Anthony pulled Sören's cock out to lick it, up and down the shaft, around and around the head, kissed the head, and then he took more of Sören's cock in his mouth, deeper, sucking harder and faster. One of Anthony's hands slid up Sören's thigh and stomach, rubbing in lazy circles, and the other cupped and gently rubbed Sören's balls.
Sören heard himself whimpering, grunting, making animal noises, losing himself in the sweet sucking, his lust for Anthony with his mouth full of cock, eyes fierce, hungry. It didn't take long for Sören to get to that edge, thrusting into Anthony's mouth, moaning. "Oh god. So close..."
"Mmmmmmm."
Sören bit his lip and growled, balls tightening. "You want me to come in your mouth? You want to taste me?"
"Mmmmmmhmmmm. MMMMMMMMMM."
Anthony sucked even harder, faster, his hand rolling Sören's balls, and a moment later Sören exploded with a cry. There was so much cum it seeped out of the corners of Anthony's mouth, and Anthony gave a precious little whimper as he swallowed what Sören had to give. He licked his lips, then licked Sören clean, the strokes of his tongue giving Sören aftershocks. Sören took Anthony's hands and helped him onto his feet, and Anthony kissed Sören again, letting him taste himself. Then Sören felt Anthony's arm moving as the kiss deepened, and realized Anthony was stroking himself. As they kissed open-mouthed, tongues teasing, Anthony trembled and let out a groan, and Sören felt hot seed splashing his stomach and thigh. Then his cock. Sören looked down and the sight of Anthony's cock shooting over him made him weak and wanting again, grabbing at his lover, slick pooling down his thighs.
Sören turned off the water and they stood there, catching their breath, before kissing again.
Once they'd toweled off, they walked back out and Anthony had Sören sit while he made up the couch-bed, changing the sheets. When Anthony put the old sheets in the laundry hamper between the closet and the bathroom, he came back and said, "The laundry basket is full."
Sören nodded. "There's a laundry room, I can catch up on laundry when, uh. My heat is over." Sören gave a nervous laugh, as more slick dripped out of him onto the towel he was sitting on, hoping it wasn't going to seep through to the armchair. "I can wash your clothes too."
Anthony brought some of the food over to the bed. He cradled Sören and they fed each other bits of cheese and assorted smoked fish on crispbread, cherry tomatoes and slices of cucumber, licking and sucking each other's fingers, stealing kisses every now and again. After they'd finished eating and had some water, Anthony rolled Sören onto his back and began kissing Sören's neck, grinding against him. Sören moaned and dug his nails in Anthony's back, urgent for him again.
"You know..." Anthony licked Sören's neck, then kissed the hollow of his neck and shoulder, making Sören buck against him, cock jolting, hole throbbing. Sören whimpered as slick gushed out of him. "I knew I'd probably enjoy Iceland, but I wasn't expecting to enjoy myself this much." He looked up at Sören with a wicked grin. "This is the best Christmas ever."
"Me too." Sören grinned back, heart soaring.
They kissed, and Sören spread for him, arched to him. He moaned as he felt the tip of Anthony's cock at his opening, moaning louder into a deeper kiss as Anthony began to push inside again. "Mmhmm, mmhmm," Sören encouraged, kissing Anthony fiercely, craving this like a drug.
"Sweetheart," Anthony husked when he was all the way in. They kissed again as Anthony began to thrust.
"Oh god." Sören shivered as Anthony's cock hit that spot, soothing and exciting at once. "Oh god, more... don't stop..." Sören's nails raked down Anthony's back. "Don't stop. Don't ever fucking stop."
Never ever. Those words were a deeper truth; Sören knew in his heart of hearts he wanted this for life, this was the one.
_
By the twenty-sixth Sören's heat had subsided, and they spent the twenty-sixth and most of the twenty-seventh getting caught up on sleep, and Anthony helped Sören with chores like tidying up and laundry. In the late afternoon of the twenty-seventh they took a bus to a car rental to rent a campervan through the thirtieth, and after they parked the campervan in the parking lot of Sören's apartment complex they went back to Sören's flat to belatedly watch Christmas movies and Sören finally made a batch of Christmas cookies, so Anthony could taste the difference between storebought and homemade. Anthony rewarded him with a slow, languid blowjob, which turned into a hungry sixty-nine. Sören thought Anthony tasted just as good as the cookies he'd baked, if not better, and there was nothing sweeter than laying in Anthony's arms in the afterglow, listening to his heartbeat, feeling so cozy, so safe.
He didn't know how he was going to deal with Anthony going back to London. He still hadn't told Anthony he loved him. This was just a fling, it would be over soon. Yes, Anthony would probably visit Iceland again, and Sören wanted to visit him in London. But it was hard to make long-distance relationships work, harder still if the next time Sören went into heat, Anthony wasn't there. Sören went from a peaceful, easy feeling laying there snuggled into Anthony's chest, to feeling like his heart was being ripped out, the world was crashing down around him. He fought back tears, not wanting to disturb Anthony, whose eyes were closed, lashes framing his cheeks, but he found himself taking one of Anthony's hands, squeezing tight.
He needed to make every moment count. Tomorrow, they would do just that.
_
On the morning of Friday the twenty-eighth they woke up early, earlier than Sören would have liked, but they had a long drive ahead of them and there were things to see on the way to Reynisfjara.
Their first stop was a grocery store, since the cafe at Reynisfjara was expensive, but there was a kitchen at Skógar Campsite, where they'd be overnighting. They got snacks and drinks for the day, and things to make sandwiches with. Sören added a case of Applesín, pleased that Anthony had developed a taste for it.
"I'll have to ship you some," Sören teased as he handed Anthony a bottle once they were back in the van.
"Or bring it when you visit me in London."
Sören smiled and bit his lower lip. He was happy Anthony wanted him to visit - Sören wanted that too. But even more than that he wanted Anthony to stay, or some way they could be close to each other, not separated by an ocean. He kept those thoughts to himself, feeling like he was being too needy, too possessive. But as he started the engine he couldn't help glancing over at Anthony and thinking to himself, My Alpha.
Sören sighed.
Anthony was quiet on the drive - pensive. There was a lot to see, the road winding through the enchanted wintry landscape. But Sören thought he seemed troubled, and felt like he'd be intrusive by asking about it. So he let himself pay attention to the road, and the beauty of the land. His country. The land sang in his blood, pulsed in his bones, danced from his brush. He was loath to leave it behind, and yet, as he saw Anthony lost in thought, he realized that he would be willing to start a new life in England, for him.
It felt utterly mad. Once again, Sören worried he was going to sound needy, desperate, obsessed, unhinged, if he told Anthony what he was thinking, feeling. He never thought he'd be leaving Iceland - he hadn't been impressed with America when he'd visited, there was no place on Earth as beautiful as this. But it seemed to Sören there was no one on Earth as beautiful as Anthony, and he didn't want to lose that. Anthony's arms had felt like home.
They watched the sun rise at Seljalandsfoss, the warm pastels of the dawn painting the waterfall and snowy hills. Since it was winter, the path that allowed visitors to walk behind the waterfall was closed, inaccessible due to snow and ice, which was disappointing - the view of the waterfall from behind would have been breathtaking - but it was still a winter wonderland. They sighed and gasped together at the icicles sparkling on the cliffs, the tranquility of the snow around the falls and river. They took some pictures, including selfies - as well as some photos of each other, and the two of them together - but mostly they just looked, marveled. It was almost unreal that anything could be so beautiful, like they had stepped into another world. Sören felt a fierce, sharp ache, knowing he was willing to leave this behind. He could still visit Iceland, but it wouldn't be the same as living here.
And yet, the smile on Anthony's face, the joy in his eyes, made that feeling right.
Their next destination was the Eyjafjallajökull volcano. Their campervan was a 4 x 4, which allowed them to handle the rough winter road up to the top. With the colder temperatures on top of the volcano, Sören put on a slouchy knit teal blue hat, and Anthony playfully yanked it down over Sören's eyes to steal a kiss.
On the ride up the summit and walking around the peak, Anthony was so excited it was infectious. The view of the glacial valley from the summit was incredible on a clear, bright winter day, as far as the eye could see - "I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD!" Anthony yelled, his voice echoing, which made Sören laugh and give him a little kiss.
Anthony's smile was also making Sören feverish with lust, and as soon as they climbed back in the campervan to go down, Sören went down in a completely different way, kissing Anthony madly as his hands rucked up Anthony's coat, fumbled with Anthony's jeans, taking out his cock. Anthony growled. "Oh god, yes."
Sören gave a murmur of approval and dove down, greedy for Anthony's cock, sucking hard and fast, like his life depended on it. Anthony sat back, mouth open, eyes fluttering, panting. It didn't take long for Sören to make him come, and Sören savored every drop, swallowing, licking his lips, cleaning Anthony's cock with his tongue to get every bit of it, until Anthony gently pushed him back. "Sensitive," he rasped, and then he laughed, with that lovely euphoric smile again.
Sören kissed Anthony, letting him taste himself. When they pulled back, Sören smirked and booped Anthony's nose. "Now you can tell people you went to a volcano and while you were there something blew, there was an eruption, and you won't be lying."
Anthony doubled over, tearing up. "You're so bad."
"Takk."
They stopped in the village of Vík to visit the restroom and did a little more sightseeing, including to look at the town's church, located on top of a high hill. The picturesque church with its white walls and red roofs looked cheery and Christmasy in the snow, and Sören took some pictures of that too. "I may not like religion but it's produced some damn beautiful buildings," he said.
"You really should meet my mum. You would get on like a house on fire."
Sören chuckled. Then his cheeks burned - once again, Anthony was suggesting Sören meet his parents. That suggested a hope for something more. Something serious. Sören thought to ask about it, but his stomach did flip-flops, heart pounding, not sure when or if it would be the right time.
Vik had an outdoor swimming pool that was open to the public year-round, and was geothermally heated so even in the winter it would be comfortable, but there wasn't much light left before sundown, so Sören said, "Do you want to come back here tomorrow before we drive back to Reykjavik, take a dip?"
"Sure." Anthony bit his lower lip with a small, naughty smile, looking Sören up and down. "One more excuse to see your gorgeous body."
Sören elbowed him, giggling, face on fire now, feeling giddy and flustered.
Once they got to Reynisfjara, the air was taking on that golden haze just before sunset. The trip was perfectly timed - the beach was marvelous anytime of day, but especially in the dramatic sunrises and sunsets.
Anthony's mouth opened as he looked around at the black sand, the choppy waves, the cliffs and basalt stacks that looked like fingers, or penises... or creatures turned to stone. "It's eerie, but in a beautiful way."
"It really is." Sören nodded. "It's otherworldly, like someplace that only exists here." Sören put his hand on his heart. "Like if loneliness was a physical place. But not something ugly... the sort of loneliness one has to know to create things, study things. A place of melancholy but where there's still life."
"Yes." Anthony's breath hitched.
Sören had never expressed that thought aloud before, and it meant so much that Anthony got it. This is the one, his brain chimed again.
Anthony took Sören's hand and squeezed. "I'm not lonely now."
Sören felt the tears coming on, wanting to tell Anthony he loved him, wanting to offer to see where this would go, build a life together. He wasn't ready yet. He blinked back tears, swallowed hard, and husked, "Hi Not Lonely Now."
Anthony threw back his head and laughed, then he leaned in to give Sören a little kiss.
They watched the sky turn gold; the way the gold light of sunset mixed with the silvery arctic sea made Sören want to cry just from the beauty of it. The black sand of the beach sparkled in the golden light. As the sunset wore on, the sky took on more colors - orange, magenta, violet. It was as if the sky was putting on a show just for them, and the miracle of light in this dramatic setting, witnessing the magic together, felt as intimate as sex, like they had seen something sacred, just the two of them. Sören leaned on Anthony's shoulder and Anthony rubbed his back; even through his coat and his sweater, Sören's skin felt sensitized and he tingled to Anthony's touch, wanting more. Slick started to drip from him again. If it wasn't so cold out here, Sören would have wanted to push Anthony into the sand and ride him.
The sunset faded to twilight. The high tide rolled in, and they stepped back several meters to avoid any rogue waves. But it wasn't time to leave yet.
The sunset had been beautiful, but the greatest magic was still yet to come. As they sat on their blanket, leaning on each other, the stars rose. Soon, the entire sky was a sea of innumerable stars, infinite. Sören's hair stood on end, his skin gooseflesh under his clothes.
Anthony let out a shuddery gasp and then he covered his mouth; Sören saw him shaking and knew he was crying a little. Sören put an arm around him and began rubbing his shoulder, soothing, petting.
"My god." Anthony's voice shook. He blinked and tears rolled down his cheeks. "It's the Milky Way."
"It's eternity. The stars... the waves." Sören looked up, and back into time. "When I was younger, I used to go to the Goðafoss just to get away from it all, escape what was going on at home, in school. I would watch the falls and even in winter they kept flowing. It reminded me life goes on, and I just had to keep moving forward." He gestured up at the sky. "Even more so, here. We just have to keep on keeping on."
"We've already kept keeping on to see this." Anthony's voice was hushed, reverent. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life." He turned to Sören. "Next to you."
Sören's heart soared again. He pulled Anthony into a deep kiss. Though he couldn't say those three little words yet, he nonetheless expressed those feelings as their mouths crushed together, tongues teasing, sparks of the fire they would share later. They both groaned into the kiss, the wild magic of their surroundings making their desire for each other all the more potent.
And then, the sky began to shimmer with bands of electric green. Anthony and Sören gasped, and now tears came to Sören's eyes as well. If they had just seen the Milky Way over the ocean and the basalt sea stacks, it still would have been an amazing experience. To see the aurora dance in the sky above them - the stars seemed to sing - defied any words as to its glory, its wonder. A shiver went down Sören's spine, gooseflesh intensifying. They were both crying a little, broken by the beauty, the power, and the gratitude for the gift of life, being here together to share this moment.
They watched the aurora weave and wander in the sky, captivated, until they started to feel too cold. They got up, reluctantly, and walked hand-in-hand to the campervan.
Sören drove the van to Skógar Campsite, parking meters away from the Skógafoss. They used the restroom and made sandwiches in the kitchen. Sören warned Anthony that though there were showers at the facility, they were cold water only, so they heated some water in the kitchen and brought it to the campervan. Once the campervan was nice and toasty warm, they got undressed and took turns sponge bathing each other, which was an incredibly tender, sensual experience. They stole little kisses here and there, which became bigger, deeper, hotter. The sponging became a caressing, teasing touch, free hands roaming, exploring.
"I want you," Anthony husked, kissing Sören's neck.
"I want you too."
Anthony took Sören's chin in his hand. "You gave me such a hot blowjob at the Eyja... the volcano." He couldn't pronounce it and started laughing, cheeks pink.
Sören smirked. "Eyjafjallajökull."
"Yeah. That." Anthony growled. "God, I love hearing you speak Icelandic. It's so sexy."
Sören's smirk got bigger, feeling trollish. "Súrsaðar gúrkur. Geitarass. Geðveikur trúður posse. "
Anthony's eyes narrowed. "Pretty sure you're not talking dirty."
Sören laughed and shook his head.
"Brat." Anthony smacked Sören's ass, making Sören moan as he stole another kiss. Then Anthony touched Sören's face and said, "Anyway... I want to return the favor. I want to take care of you, sweetheart."
Once again Sören felt that flutter in his stomach, the leap of his heart, radiant, chiming joy. He didn't want to hope this was more than just a fling to Anthony, but when he put it like that...
Sören flopped back on the bed, giggling, his cock already at attention... his hole pooling slick. Anthony lay beside him and for a moment they just looked into each other's eyes, petting, and then Anthony kissed Sören deeply and Sören moaned at the feel of Anthony's hard cock rubbing against his. Cock rubbed cock as they kissed and kissed, time seeming to stop, completely lost in each other. As horny as Sören was, wanting to come - wanting to make Anthony come again - he wanted to stay in this space for awhile, kissing, touching, rubbing. Already, it felt like making love.
It felt like love.
Soon Anthony was kissing Sören's neck again, his shoulder. His eyes locked with Sören's as his tongue lashed at a nipple. Sören bucked, crying out, when Anthony drew the nipple into his mouth, suckling hard. Anthony licked around and around in circles, tongue fluttering the aching nub slow, then rubbing hard and fast. He suckled harder, tugged on the nipple ring with his teeth, and suckled hard again. Sören moaned, slick dripping down his thighs.
Anthony gave the other nipple the same treatment, his thumb rolling and brushing the nipple his mouth had just left. As he suckled on one nipple, he pulled and pinched the other. Sören writhed, clutching at him, whimpering, as Anthony went back and forth between his nipples, so sensitive, driving him mad with sensation. It had never been like this with anyone else.
At last Anthony's mouth left Sören's nipples. He trailed kisses over Sören's stomach, licking here and there. He kissed down to one thigh, licking and sucking at Sören's exquisitely erogenous inner thighs. He kissed behind one knee, down the calf, and sucked at Sören's toes. Sören never knew how sensitive his toes were, and he moaned as Anthony pleasured each one. Anthony did the same with the other foot, then back up the calf, behind the knee, over the thigh, to the stomach. "So beautiful," he breathed. "A living work of art." Anthony's eyes met Sören's. "You are like the embodiment of the aurora over that beach. Fire in the sky."
Sören's breath hitched and tears came to his eyes. He didn't know what to say to that - nothing seemed like it would do justice in gratitude for the sweetness of those words. Nothing had ever touched him so deeply. He reached out to stroke Anthony's face; Anthony nuzzled Sören's hand, and kissed it.
Then he dove in, taking as much of Sören's cock in his mouth as he could fit. Sören cried out and grabbed his head. "Oh, fuck," he moaned as Anthony began sucking, fast and furious, hard and hungry.
"Mmmmmmm."
"Fuck..."
After a few minutes Anthony pulled back so just the tip of Sören's cock was in his mouth, and Anthony's hand gripped Sören's shaft, rubbing up and down. That allowed Anthony to work his tongue, kissing the head, which got Sören right on that edge, panting, quivering, whimpering, slick pouring out of him, wanting to come so badly but what Anthony's mouth and hand were doing to his cock was so good.
Then Anthony's tongue was on his frenulum, rubbing. When Anthony's tongue slowed down, with long, teasing licks up and down, Sören cried out again, bucking against him. "You fucking tease..."
Anthony laughed, tapped Sören's cock against his tongue - Sören groaned at the sight of his precum making streamers - and then he licked around and around the head, lashed the frenulum some more, swirled his tongue around the cockhead nice and slow. "You have such a gorgeous cock. I want to worship it." He licked all the way down the shaft, then back up, eyes wicked.
Sören moaned. The only way this would be any better was if his mouth was full of Anthony's cock too - he loved sucking cock as much as he loved being sucked. "I want to worship yours too."
"I want to take care of you -"
"You can take care of me by us taking care of each other. I need that hot fucking cock in my mouth."
Anthony growled. "When you put it like that -"
Sören gave Anthony's hair a little tug - though he was an Omega, and inclined towards submission, he couldn't resist the display of aggression, wanting to show Anthony how vehement he was, how much he wanted. Anthony growled again, kissed Sören roughly, and then they settled into the sixty-nine position, laying on their sides, heads between each other's legs.
Sören devoured Anthony's cock, sucking with a passion that surprised and unnerved him. Feeling Anthony's mouth around him as Sören pleasured Anthony's cock was even better than he'd hoped for when he suggested it. And it was another way to feel so close to him, both of them doing this together, at the same time, synchronized, once again one flesh, one desire, one need. Sören moaned with his mouth full, pleasure climbing and climbing, balls tightening, never wanting to stop, even as his body ached for release.
Anthony stopped sucking and his tongue brushed the sensitive place between Sören's ass and balls. Sören whimpered, and cried out around Anthony's cock when Anthony licked in circles at the rim of Sören's opening. "Baby, you are so, so fucking wet," Anthony whispered.
Sören took Anthony's cock out of his mouth. "You get me wet."
"Mmm." Anthony's tongue swirled, slower. "I love it."
I love you. There it was again. Sören licked at Anthony's cock, crying out again as Anthony ate at him in earnest, fucking with his tongue. Soon Sören was working his hips, fucking himself on Anthony's sweet tongue, trying to suck Anthony's cock in the same rhythm.
Their hands roamed, stroking sensitive flesh, making each other tremble. And when they both reached the point of no return, fucking each other's mouths, moaning, Anthony took Sören's hands and squeezed. Sören felt like he was hit by a lightning bolt, coming hard, screaming around Anthony's cock. A few seconds later Anthony spilled, so much cum Sören almost choked on it, and it was delicious. Sören drank, swallowed, came back for more, moaning, shooting off another jet of cum and slick as he throbbed, electrified by Anthony filling his mouth.
They sat up and kissed, tasting themselves and each other. The combined taste of their cum was even more delicious. Sören groaned, tongue rubbing Anthony's more insistently, craving him all over again as he tasted the evidence of what they'd done.
Once again Sören lay on his side; this time Anthony spooned him. He kept an arm around Sören as he thrust, and Sören loved that feeling of being held, being possessed. He loved it even more when Anthony turned Sören's face to his so they could kiss, lick, look into each other's eyes, breathe each other's breath.
One of Anthony's hands played up and down Sören's body, fingers walking, learning where and how Sören liked to be touched and teased. The other hand gripped Sören's cock, stroking madly. The small space of the campervan smelled of their sex, and the wet suctioning sound of Anthony working in and out of Sören, their hips slapping together, Anthony's balls smacking against him, all stoked the fire hotter. Anthony's knot was so good, hitting Sören's sweet spot just right, and Anthony working his cock at the same time, playing with his nipples, rubbing his stomach, his thigh, made it even better. Sören whimpered, moaned, and at last found his words.
"More, oh god, more, fuck me, more, don't stop, don't you fucking stop, more, I need more..."
"Oh god, baby." Anthony groaned and kissed Sören's neck, licked it. Kissing and licking, driving Sören even crazier with pleasure.
"More, more..." Sören bit his lip and gave a wordless whine, feeling himself rush to that edge, ready to fly off, trying to cling for one more moment, needing to be pounded, taken, fucked by his Alpha.
In the mindless haze of Sören's passion, fully surrendering to the Alpha pounding into him, those three words surged to the back of Sören's mind once again, wanting to say it, wanting to confess those feelings, the way Anthony made him burn like the aurora. He got closer, closer...
And then, Anthony bit him. Sören yelped as he felt Anthony's teeth in the sensitive hollow where neck met shoulder, felt the draw of blood.
"Yes, yes, yes..." Sören climaxed immediately, watching as his cum sprayed the sunroof, just as the aurora was beginning again.
Anthony gave a deep growl, making Sören contract again, so sweet. He turned Sören's face to his - Anthony's eyes were almost angry, so fierce - and he said something. Not I love you, but something just as deep, if not deeper.
"Mine," Anthony ground out, and then he kissed Sören, letting Sören taste the blood - Sören's blood - on his lips and tongue.
Sören shook again, contracting so hard it almost hurt, and he felt Anthony quiver against him, Anthony crying out into the kiss as he shot into Sören. There was so much cum it gushed out of Sören, with his slick, deliciously debauched. Sören whimpered into the kiss, contracting, throbbing, flying. Bliss.
"Mine," Anthony husked, and licked the wound that was starting to bleed.
Sören lay there, his back to Anthony's chest, Anthony holding him so tight. Tears stung his eyes, and he smiled so hard it made his face ache. Those three little words could wait; Sören couldn't even make words in response, he could only feel, so fierce it felt as if his heart could burst, as if he was indeed being ripped apart and put back together again. Made whole.
Laying there snuggled up to Anthony, claimed, held, as the aurora swirled above them, was the most magical moment of Sören's life. Everything was beautiful. He closed his eyes, and in the deep relief of his release, sleep washed over him.
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