"Come on, come on," Ian urged, pulling Anthony up the stairs of the unfamiliar house. "The lighting crew is setting up for the next scene; we only have a few minutes!"
Anthony laughed at Ian's enthusiasm, allowing himself to be dragged along.
"In here!" Ian said, pulling open the door of an empty closet.
"You always take me to the most romantic places," Anthony said, grinning.
"Just get in!" Ian insisted.
Anthony obliged, smirking. Ian followed him in, pulling the door three-quarters of the way shut, leaving just enough light to see by. He pushed Anthony up against the side wall, leaning in to kiss him.
"You look really fucking hot in that hoodie," he murmured.
"You look… um…" Anthony searched for a word to describe Ian's purple lace tank top and propeller beanie. "…cute," he finished.
"You love it," Ian teased, biting Anthony's lip playfully.
"Dude, I can't," Anthony groaned, laughing. "You're playing my little brother in this video, it'll mess everything up if we start fooling around between scenes!"
"Ours is an incestuous relationship," Ian said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"You're supposed to be like nine years old!" Anthony protested, wriggling away from Ian's insistent lips.
"Would it help if I took the hat off?"
"Maybe."
Ian pulled off the beanie, shaking his sandy brown hair loose. "Better?"
"You're still wearing a women's' top," Anthony pointed out.
"Can't you live with that?" Ian whined. "My other shirt's downstairs somewhere."
"Fine, fine," Anthony said. "But this is a one-time thing. I am so not into that."
"That's what you think." Ian muttered, smirking. He pressed up against Anthony, kissing him deeply. Anthony let out a soft sigh, melting into the feeling of Ian's lips. He let his hands slide down Ian's waist, finding his belt loops and grasping them tightly. He pulled Ian's hips up against his own, and Ian let out a little whimpering sound. We might have to start the next scene a little late, Anthony thought, shivering with pleasure as Ian's fingernails grazed his back. He vaguely wondered how soundproof the closet would be if they pulled the door closed.
He tried to slide his hands under Ian's shirt, but the tight lace top was in the way.
"Do we need this top for any more scenes?" he murmured against Ian's lips.
"I don't think so," Ian replied breathlessly.
"Good," Anthony whispered. He grasped the neckline of the thin shirt and pulled, tearing it open down the front.
"That was sexy as hell," Ian said, "but I still don't have another shirt up here."
"You can wear my hoodie when we go back downstairs," Anthony replied, pulling the ruined top off Ian's shoulders and dropping it to the ground. Ian's bare torso looked incredibly sexy in the dim light coming from the hallway. Anthony took one last longing look at it before pulling the closet door shut and pressing up against Ian, kissing him hungrily.
"Jesus," Ian said, laughing slightly. "I didn't expect you to want it this much."
"It's not my fault you look so damn good shirtless," Anthony replied. He sucked gently on Ian's bottom lip, smiling to himself at the small moan Ian uttered. Ian tugged Anthony's hood down, twisting his fingers into Anthony's hair and dragging him deeper into the kiss. Their tongues collided, teasing one another until they were both shaking with want.
"How long do you think we have until they start looking for us?" Ian whispered, unzipping Anthony's pants carefully.
"Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen," Anthony guessed. He groaned softly as Ian's hand slid inside his pants, stroking him gently.
"What do you want to do?" Ian murmured into his ear, sending little jolts of electricity through his body.
"Not enough time to fuck," he said regretfully. "Can I blow you?"
"Like I'd ever say no to that," Ian breathed.
Anthony gently pushed him up against the opposite wall, dropping to his knees in front of him. He could barely even see Ian's outline in the dark, but he could imagine his face from so many other times like this: chin tipped backward, eyes half-closed and dark with desire, mouth slightly open in a silent moan. Anthony felt himself growing harder from the mental image. He fumbled with the front of Ian's pants, desperately searching for the zipper. He tugged it down, nearly ripping the button off in his haste, and finally tugged the jeans and boxers down around Ian's thighs. He wished there was a light in the closet so he could stare for a second and just appreciate, but they were running out of time anyway. He gave one long lick up Ian's shaft before taking him into his mouth.
"Oh God, Anthony," Ian whispered breathlessly, his hands finding their way to Anthony's hair once again. Anthony sucked harder in response, and Ian let out a low moan. "Oh God," he repeated.
Anthony set to work, swirling his tongue and bobbing his head, finding a rhythm to match the speed of Ian's heavy breathing. Ian was holding the back of Anthony's head, thrusting into his mouth and making little groaning noises every so often and it was so arousing that Anthony could hardly stand it. He pulled his own jeans down, just far enough to wrap one hand around his own throbbing erection and begin jerking off to the rhythm of Ian's thrusts. It wasn't the most romantic thing in the world, but it got the job done. He moaned, and pressing his tongue against the head of Ian's dick as he did so, and he was pleased to hear Ian gasp at the sensation.
Anthony found himself on the edge already, and he took Ian as deep as he could.
"Fuck, Anthony," Ian moaned aloud, and Anthony bucked his hips in pleasure as he came, the hot liquid spilling over his fingers and onto the floor. He sucked more insistently, and Ian let out a shrill whimper.
"Oh God, Anthony, I'm going to fucking come!" he nearly shouted, throwing his head back and groaning as he exploded into Anthony's mouth. "Oh God," he said weakly, slumping against the wall of the closet. Anthony stood up, swallowing carefully, looking for something to clean off his hand. He spied the remains of the lace top and picked it up, wiping off his fingers thoroughly before tossing it back into the corner. Let someone else deal with that.
"That was amazing," Ian murmured, kissing him softly. Anthony smiled into the kiss, pulling him close.
Suddenly they heard footsteps on the stairs.
"Ian? Anthony?" a voice called. "You up here?"
They both froze, keeping as quiet as possible until the footsteps headed back downstairs. Anthony tugged off his hoodie, handing it to Ian. "Let's go," he said. They tiptoed quietly down the stairs into the thankfully empty hallway, then strolled casually into the small room being used as both the prop room and the wardrobe.
"Where were you guys?" someone asked.
"We had to take care of something," Ian said, shrugging. "Is my shirt around here somewhere?"
Anthony bit his lip to hold in his laughter. Someone tossed Ian the too-small red t-shirt, and he pulled off Anthony's hoodie to put it on. Anthony stared longingly at Ian's bare chest before it was covered again by the red fabric. Ian put his propeller beanie on again. "Time to shoot again!" he declared. As he walked past Anthony toward the living room, he paused to whisper in his ear, "we'll finish this later tonight."
Anthony decided that, even in that stupid costume, he was still pretty damn hot.
