Regret (Ianthony)

Two Months, Four Weeks Prior

"Please?"

"No."

"C'mon, that's thirty dollars that you're letting-"

"Well, I guess you should keep them then."

"You're not getting the point."

"Neither are you! You know what happened last time I took a bet with you."

"Pussy."

"Shut the fuck up!" Anthony ran a hand through his hair in his irritation, wondering why the hell Ian wanted him to do this so bad. First the fish, then the sharks; when the hell was this going to end?

Ian crossed his arms. "It's different, I promise."

Letting out a sarcastic laugh, Anthony snarled, "Like hell it is!" He could feel his annoyance grow. Why did Ian like to see him suffer so much? Did he like dominace or something? Was he into that sort of thing?

Biting his lip, Ian scooted closer to Anthony, sliding easily across their leather couch as Anthony struggled to watch the television and ignore Ian's words. Ian blocked his vision by sitting on Anthony's lap and putting his head between his eyes and the screen.

"C'mon, man..." He ran a hand up Anthony's shirt. "I thought you liked risks."

"No," Anthony repeated, trying to bat Ian's hand away, only to realize that Ian had his arms completely pinned with his knees. He tried pullling them out, but resistance was futile.

Ian smiled at his attempts at freedom. "I'm not letting you up 'til you do it." His voice was growing a lot more seductive than before, and Anthony suddenly realized what he was about to do.

"Let me up, man!" he yelped, glaring at Ian, who was still smirking. He began leaning in on Anthony, pressing their lips together. Before Anthony could really begin to comprehend what was happening, Ian's tongue was in his mouth, and he felt it roll against his own tongue, teasing it. It was the first time in a few weeks that they had kissed that sensually, and Anthony was instantly captivated by the hypnotic sensation. Apparently, Ian sensed it, and swoooped in at the chance.

Pulling away, Ian spoke, "Look, we can pick this up if you do it. It'll only take a few minutes..."

Anthony groaned. "You're really not gonna give up, are you?"

Shaking his head, Ian promised, "Streak the neighborhood and I will." Anthony seemingly took the bait when he sat up to lean in to Ian. Ian thought that he had won.

Lips tickling Ian's own lips, Anthony murmured, "Fuck you," before flipping over and reversing their roles. His tongue was down Ian's throat now, and he could feel power rush through his veins. He was the one with the upper hand now. The tables had turned.

He hoped the neighbors would somehow become deaf in the night so they wouldn't hear their screams of pleasure.