The hallways and vents of the old apartment creaked eerily in the silence of the mid-afternoon lull. It was that special time of day when the working world had returned from their lunch breaks and the children were still away at school. Tony sat hunched on the worn couch against the wall, careful not to disturb the delicate balance of books propping up its broken leg. He gazed blankly towards the rabbit-eared television set directly ahead of him, despite the switch being set to off. It would have made little difference whether or not the set was on or off as his vision was heavily obstructed by a leaning top hat and a steady veil of smoke rising from the cigarette which dangled precariously from his parted lips. Over the course of three days on his own with little to do, Tony had gone through the cycles of loneliness, which waned to merely being alone, and finally dwindled to vacancy and idle existence. And so there he sat for hours on end on that couch, blankly staring through time and space.
Tony had no idea how long he had been idling when his ears perked up to the familiar click of a door shutting in the distance. He turned towards the entrance to better listen in and discern whether or not his mind was playing tricks on him. Heavy footsteps stamping up the stairs and loud, unabashed cursing affirmed that Tony did indeed hear someone arriving. He smirked and let out a low chuckle as the disruption of the peace drew nearer and nearer.
"Open the deamn door!" Pickles shouted, kicking frantically at the heavy wooden frame.
"Hold on, hold on..." Tony called, casually rising to receive the younger man.
He strode across the room into the kitchen and took a slow, final drag of his cigarette before butting it out in the ashtray on the table. He lingered and wafted the cloud of smoke away from his face. On the other side of the door, the Midwesterner was throwing an absolute tantrum, pounding and wailing desperately to be let in. The bassist had to bite his lip to hold back the laughter long enough to slink back to the front door and let the redhead in.
"What the fuck, Tony," a sour look sullied Pickles' normally soft features.
At this, Tony absolutely lost it and lurched forward, buckling his knees with hearty laughter. The redhead, however, made it clear that these antics were highly unappreciated and took a few rigid steps into the shared apartment. He let his loaded duffel bags and guitar case heavily drop off of his shoulders and land in the middle of the floor.
"Seriously, Tony, da fuck was that aboat?" Pickles glared over to the bassist, who was wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "There I em, carryin' ahll this heavy ass shit 'n ye can't lemme in? The hell were ye doin'?"
"Ya know," Tony made a crude hand gesture. "Just jerking it."
Pickles clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes as he turned to remove his jacket and toss it on the couch. The older man quickly changed his demeanor and stood upright, cracking his back along the way. He reached in his pocket, retrieving his pack of cigarettes.
"So..." he flicked his lighter, "how was the trip to Wisconsin? That grandmother of yours sad to lose her husband?"
Pickles said nothing for a moment but chose instead to drink deeply from his hip flask and sloppily wipe his lips on his bare arm.
"It's a fucking shame dat whole family didn't just up an' die in a fire," he finally spoke bitterly, his lips pursed.
"Hey, now... that's your family you're saying that about," the bassist twirled the cigarette in his hand.
"Exactly!" the redhead snapped, flipping his mane over his shoulder.
Tony held his tongue, and the two sat smoking and drinking in silence for several minutes. Then, with a hiccup and a belch, Pickles chucked the emptied flask across the room and proceeded to kick off his boots.
"I...I gotta admit..." he looked over to his band mate, "I missed the hell outta m'Tony..."
Curiosity piqued, Tony met his gaze and flicked the remains of his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray.
"Is that a fact, bro?" he exhaled deeply, blowing a thick plume of gray smoke across the room.
"Theat is a fact," Pickles nodded in confirmation.
Tony quirked a brow and bridged the gap between them to slide a quick hand around the slim man's shoulder.
"And what might you be missin' the hell out of?" he asked with an undertone of pseudo naivety.
"Ahm missin' the hell outta you, ya dooshbeag!" the redhead practically threw himself on the older man. "Now... get nekkid."
"Always the charmer, ain't ya?" the bassist grinned and tossed away his vest.
"Heh, yeah," Pickles tugged off his half shirt in response, smirking. "Know what I really miss?"
"No, bro. Why don' you fill me in?" Tony stepped closer to the younger man, beginning to undo his belt.
"Ya wan' me ta fill ya in, huh? I kin do dat..." he snickered. "But what I really miss... is Italian sausage."
"Yeah?" Tony winked at him. "Well, that bein' the case, I know a good deli where ya can get some good Italian sausage."
"Oh really? Do ya?" Pickles dropped his hands to try to assist Tony in the removal of his belt. Tony, however, abruptly halted all movement and looked down.
"Wait, wait... I thought you wanted to go get some sausage? Because, I mean... the deli is down the street, man. And I gotta keep my drawers on for that, sooo..." the bassist tried in vain to hold back a snort, elated with the elaborate tantrum it was eliciting.
"Dammit!" Pickles stamped a foot and shoved the older man. "No! I wanna suck yer cahck, ya sick fuck!"
Tony braced himself, shooting the redhead a mock challenging look. Pickles, however, was in no mood for his antics and made it apparent.
"Lose the pants," he glared, pulling a small lighter from his pocket. "Or Ah'll burn 'em."
"Easy now, easy now!" the bassist shook his hands, laughing heartily.
Pickles flicked the lighter as a warning, brandishing the flame. Tony tucked his thumbs into his boxers and slowly pulled his pants down until his hip bones peeked out over the waistline.
"I ain't playin'," he inched forward dangerously. "...'m drunk an' horny..."
Tony bent his knee and popped his hip, stroking his soul patch thoughtfully. All but ignoring the violent advances, he turned to smirk at the Snakes 'n Barrels front man.
"Tell me..." he snickered, "what else is new?"
Before the younger man could so much as defend himself, Tony reached out and grabbed him by the belt loop to pull him in to a claiming kiss. Pickles rolled his eyes back and shut them. His fingers went limp and he dropped the lighter in favor of threading his fingers into the dark, Italian hair. The bassist wrapped his thick arms around his counter part's slender waist and pulled their torsos flush. He pressed into the smaller man's lower back, leaning him back into the kiss. Pickles raked his hands through the thick hair and down Tony's spine. His fingers nudged their way into the loosened pants and cupped the bassist's ass cheeks.
"Mmm... missed this, too," Pickles groaned into the kiss.
Tony nodded, twirling the ends of the bright tresses in his fingers. He gently released and let his hands fall back to their resting point in the hollow of the younger man's back. A groan escaped his lips when the younger mans slender but strong fingers dug into his ass cheeks. He reared his hips into Pickles' grip, creating a gap between them. Tony's hand flew up into the flaming red hair and gruffly pulled the scrawny man off of him.
"Hey, I was enjoyin' dat- oh," he began to splutter before noticing the Italian man yanking his trousers off.
"I see whet yer gettin' at, chief," the redhead smirked at the mischievous look on his counterpart's face.
Tony stood up straight where as Pickles dropped to his knees to sit eye level with the bassist's erection. He glanced up to the dark eyes asking permission, but was merely greeted with an expectant quirk of a violet eyebrow, as if questioning why he was waiting. A roguish glint flickered in his eyes. The redhead curled his fingers around the base and slowly ran his tongue up the underside of the shaft, causing Tony to grab the red hair and moan.
" 'M naht doin' much more'n dat 'til ya tell me whet ya want," Pickles stated plainly.
"Aghh, you bastard..." Tony chuckled. "You know what I want. Suck my fucking cock."
Pickles hooded his eyelids and let the engorged dick slide expertly past his lips and deep into his throat, holding its length there. Tony threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut.
"Yeah, that's it..." the bassist instinctively jerked his hips back and forth.
The younger man slowly retracted and kissed the tip, eliciting a guttural groan from the bassist.
"Come on, bro... don't be a bitch," Tony's breath hitched. "I know you can use that tongue."
"Aw, come on, Tony," Pickles whined, but conceded and swirled his tongue over the tip of the Italian cock.
"Nngh!" the older man's knees buckled as he clenched his teeth, inhaling with a hiss.
Being very deliberate in his movement, Pickles darted his tongue down to the base and then slowly lapped his way back up the shaft. He planted several sloppy kisses on the tip, slowly parting his lips wider with each peck. Upon opening his mouth wide enough to fit the cock, he delved onto it while swirling and flitting his tongue around the girth. Once he reached the base with his lips, he quickly pulled off once more, pulling a sticky string of saliva and pre cum with him.
"Ahh, fuck yeah..." Tony groaned, bucking once again.
"Don' wan' ya ta cum in my mout'..." Pickles warned with a grin, wiping his lip. "Naht where I wan' it."
"Is this a fact?" the bassist arched his back, bending his neck to look down. "That being the case, you best to get in that bed, Red."
"Hmm," Pickles ran his tongue across the shaft one last time. "What if I wan' it against th' wall?"
"Well, fuck me!" Tony exclaimed eyes wide. "Well... n-not actually... right now..."
Pickles shot a crooked grin at the bassist, aware that all the blood had completely rushed from the other man's brain.
"Heh, I kin fuck ya," he said as Tony pulled him upright. "But right now, yer fuckin' me. And don' ferget th' lube this time!"
"Ahh, fuck off," the older man forcibly slammed the redhead against the wall. "I got ya covered."
"Ughhh, bein' a bit rough..." Pickles commented.
Using one free hand to hold Pickles down, the bassist reached to a nearby dresser and groped blindly until he retrieved a small, familiar tube. He squirted a generous amount onto himself, gasping slightly as the cold liquid accosted his warm flesh. The Italian casually tossed the bottle over his shoulder and began to thoroughly coat himself. His eyelids hooded and he exhaled through pursed lips.
"Yer so strahng..." the smaller man cooed, running his hand up the arm working Tony's cock.
"Pfft," Tony brushed off the compliment and lifted Pickles by the hips, tucking a knee underneath him to lean against the wall for support.
"Come on, Red, you know what to do," the older man began to wrap Pickles' pale legs around his sturdy midsection.
"Yee-ah, but it's fun makin' ye werk fer it," said Pickles, opting to nip at Tony's collarbone rather than provide assistance.
"You wouldn't be getting away with being so lazy if I weren't about to rail the hell outta you," Tony grunted, a combination of the effort to support Pickles and his small bites along his collarbone.
A twang of guilt spiked in the redhead, and so he wrapped his arms tensely around the bassist, trying in vain to actually help. The Italian wrapped an arm around the younger man while using his free hand to position himself for entrance. Pickles' heart began to pump more rapidly upon feeling the hot pressure of Tony's thick cock beating intensely against his opening. He bent his neck to better suck and bite on Tony's neck, as if encouraging him to enter.
"You go ahn an' rail the hell outta me," he whispered. "Ah'll enjoy the hell outta that."
"I hope that you do..." Tony's chest heaved erratically, and he pushed his head through the tight ring of muscle.
"Please be gentle..." the redhead's voice hitched slightly, "...thet's a l'il sore from last time, y'know..."
"It's almost like you want me to stop, 'r something..." Tony mocked, but pushed slowly deeper nonetheless.
"N-no, don' stahp. Gahd, PLEASE don' stahp!" Pickles almost begged, throwing his head back and splaying his thick, red hair across the wall and reveling in the throbbing burn he endured.
"That's what I thought," the bassist forced himself the rest of the way in, holding the smaller man steady on his cock and allowing him to fully adjust to the girth.
Pickles eyes squeezed shut and he writhed, shoulder blades grinding against the wall.
"Fuck, man..." Tony released another heavy, unstable sigh.
"Oh, gahd!" Pickles exclaimed, his eyes glassed over. "It hurts good..."
"That's right, baby. Tell me how good it is," the older man encouraged Pickles as he began to rock him up and down, moving in an out.
"It's good... r-real good," Pickles stammered, beginning to ramble, "Like, if we didn' have anyt'ing else ta do, I'd jes wanna do dis. Aaahh, fuck, SO good. Feaster... go feaster. PLEASE go feaster!"
"You wanna fuck all day, huh, Red?" Tony grinned crookedly.
He pushed his arm into the younger man's chest, pinning him, and began to thrust with more vigor. Pickles jutted his hips forward and pushed back against the wall, bracing himself with his palms flat against the wallpaper. He bounced in time with every harsh thrust the Italian administered, rubbing his cock against Tony's bare torso.
"Y-yes! Fuck, yes I do!"
Tony grasped firmly to Pickles' hip and slammed him down onto his cock. The redhead tensed up, his toes curled and his eyes popped open.
"There... right there!" he gasped as the tip of Tony's cock rubbed on his knot.
Tony jerked his head up to attention and grinned wolfishly at the squirming man. He pushed into the younger man once more at the same angle, slowly gyrating.
"Nngh, Gahd... that's it..."
"You like that, bro?"
"Ahh fuck, yeah..."
The bassist arched his back to maintain proper leverage and resumed his forceful pounding. The redhead fell forward, leaning against Tony. Their sweat intermingled, as well as dark locks entangling themselves with the wild red hair which bounced erratically in every direction. Pickles began to claw wantonly at the Italian's back.
".. 'M... 'm almost there... y-ya gahnna meet me?" he gasped for air.
"That what you want?" Tony blinked beads of dripping sweat out of his eyes, groaning eager to cum. He pumped and rocked the redhead rhythmically, steadily increasing in speed.
"T-Tony..." Pickles tensed his limbs around the bassist. "Fuck, dood... c'mahn...!"
"Make me cum, Red," Tony growled in his ear, tugging on the red hair. "Fuckin' don't hold back on me, bro."
"Ohhhh, shit..." a tight sensation coiled through Pickles' lower abdomen. "Gahnna cum-"
Pickles tossed his head back and screamed incoherently, spilling his seed across both their stomachs. At the heightened sensation of Pickles' cries, his clenched muscles, and the hot and sticky stream running down them, Tony's cock ruptured. He blew his load deep into Pickles' ass, the semen overflowing and running down their thighs. The bassist jerked and groaned, slowly coming down from his orgasm.
"Dood..." Pickles panted. "Th-that... that was awesome..."
Tony visibly shivered and gradually pulled the younger man off himself. He wiped the sweat off his brow.
"Damn. I gotta lay down after that, dude," he took a couple of purposeless steps before flopping onto the all but forgotten bed. He reached for the night stand and retrieved a spare pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Moments later he exhaled a deep, satisfactory gust of smoke through the room.
"Mind if I lay wit' ya?" the redhead inquired.
"Of course," the bassist smirked, "C'mere, ya little fuck."
Tony then opened a welcoming arm to invite Pickles to scamper over and curl into his embrace. In a sticky mess of sweat and semen, the two spent men let themselves drift of into sleep.
AN: Don't own 'em, just do naughty things to 'em. This is for Larien because she loves her some racy glamfaggotry. 3 It's also based on a quick RP we did together. Much of the dialogue is left unaltered. I beefed the hell outta this to make it a more colorful tale 'n all. Also lemme know if you like the way I set up the relationship between these two. I feel like the way they operate is really special, unique, and hilariously un-romantic. This is probably the most hetero boysex I've ever worked with, and that amuses me. Anyway, please let me know what you think, whether it be here, dA, Y!, MSN, or in an e-mail. I love me feedback. 3