The Prank
Anthony thought it was brilliant. He and Ian went out drinking, Ian drinking a little too much (yet again) so he decided to pull a little prank on him. Granted, he was always pulling pranks on his sleeping friend after one of his overindulgent nights of drinking; mostly the classics such as drawing obscene images on his face while he slept, or dipping his hand in warm water so he would soil himself. No matter what, Anthony always had a prank up his sleeve.
This time however Anthony decided to step up his game, hatching up a plan that even he thought might be going a little too far, but something in the young lad's mind had convinced him this deliciously deviant plan was just too good, too ingenious to pass up, especially when he just couldn't bear to resist missing out on the horrified look Ian's face would have after he woke up.
It was priceless.
He snickered to himself thinking about his delightful prank as one of their friends drove them home from the party. Anthony had only had a few drinks in his system, creating just enough of a buzz to fully convince himself to completely go through with a plan his sober self would never in a million years ever consider. Ian on the other hand was completely smashed beyond oblivion again.
When they arrived back to their Californian suburban home, Ian immediately hobbled to his room, collapsing into bed with a massive groan that quickly turned into loud snores and a bit of drooling from the side of his mouth. At this point there was no waking up the intoxicated YouTube sensation.
Perfect. It was time to set his plan into action. Anthony quickly rushed to his room and heaved open his sock drawer, digging through all the way to the back and pulling out the various items he had stowed away for just an occasion, hidden from his roommate's prying blue eyes. It's important to note however that Ian was already aware of the existence of these items, as they were all sent to the two entertainers during various "Mailtime" sessions by profusely disturbed and deranged fans all over the world over the course of various months. Anthony had claimed to have gotten rid of them, but in reality, he had kept them with the thought in mind that they might come in handy someday for a laugh or two. The evil glint was ever present in his dark brown eyes as he pulled out three packages of fruit flavored condoms along with a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs, a bottle of cherry flavored lube, a vibrating sex toy and a leather-bound whip.
The straight haired, copper-fueled man tittered with anticipation as he firmly grasped the items in his hands, swiftly (and still slightly uncoordinated from the alcohol) making his way into his best friend's room. He came to find the younger of the two strewn sideways across the mattress, mouth agape and fully clothed with a leg lifelessly dangling over the edge of the bed. The covers and pillow appeared to have been thrown carelessly into a pile on the floor, near and partially over his desk. Anthony suddenly felt a rush of guilt burn onto his face over what he was about to do, or maybe it was something else. Not wanting to be bothered by it any longer however, he quickly shrugged it off and set the items on the desk.
He began by pulling off the sleeping boy's clothes, gingerly at first, but after realizing how much of a deep state of unconscious sleep he was in, he simply gave into firmly tugging and pulling off all of his clothes down to his boxers instead. He then undressed himself to the same degree and scattered the clothes wildly throughout the already messy room, making sure to plant certain clothing articles in impossibly obscure areas. Then, he took hold of his sleeping friend's hand and gently placed the handcuff over it, attaching the other to the bedpost and scattered the rest of the items throughout the room and the bed. He ripped open the condom wrappers, rolling out the latex and tossing one on the bed, the other on the floor and the third on the desk. Lastly, he moved Ian to a more comfortable position on the mattress and tossed the blankets above the bed, sleeping boy and all, and crawled under the covers next to him., placing the key to the cuffs under his pillow.
He felt his heart racing eagerly for next morning's reaction. Anthony imagined Ian groaning against the pillow, clutching his head from the massive hangover he would have and opening his eyes to the sight of the obvious end to a drunken X-Rated sex scene, starring himself and Anthony. He envisioned Ian screaming and freaking out, waking Anthony up only to have him reply with a reassuring "What's wrong, babe?"
He watched Ian's chest slowly rise and fall, his breathing becoming more stable and less noisy as time passed.
If there was a Hell, he knew there was definitely a first class ticket reserved just for him.
At this point however, Anthony didn't care. He felt his eyelids become heavier and heavier as sleep began to overcome his tired body and the image of Ian next to him began to softly blur into nothingness.
~
Anthony awoke the next morning with a huge yawn, turning himself over to his left to find… nothing? His eyes flew open revealing the empty spot on the bed where Ian had been. He blinked a few times and scanned the room about. Everything was clean and put away, no evidence of any kind of freak-out or even a sex scene at all. Anthony began to grow concerned that perhaps his devious plan had no doubt, dubiously backfired. Before his mind could conjure up various scenarios as to what this could mean, he heard the sound of soft approaching footsteps.
Ian walked into the room.
He began to panic.
Ian slowly walked over to him and wordlessly sat down on the bed next to him, a blank expression covering his fragile face. He turned and looked at the frightened young man, still clad in just his boxers under the sheets. Anthony swallowed hard.
"Ian, I-I know… what you might be thi-"
Without so much as a warning, Ian grabbed Anthony by the shoulders and began furiously kissing him, tearing off the sheets encasing his almost naked body and mounting him, his hands running all over his exposed skin. Anthony tried to scream out, but all that resulted was muffled moans against Ian's hungry lips, causing the shorter to become even more aroused at the vibration against his mouth. Anthony tried to push him away, but something was restraining him from doing so. His dark cocoa eyes darted up to the foot of the bed, horrified to find both hands handcuffed to the very same bedpost he himself had locked Ian against the night before.
"Ian," he began again, completely and utterly scared shitless when their mouths finally parted, "I-I-I…"
Ian silenced his stuttered attempt at an explanation with another deep-tongued kiss, and began grinding himself hard against the thin fabric of Anthony's Calvin Klein boxers, causing him to groan loudly as pleasurable ripples began rapidly shooting unexpectedly throughout his body. Anthony moaned and gasped loudly at the sensation, his mind suddenly shutting down all reason and fear, replacing it with carnal lust. Somewhere in the back however, a determined thought stubbornly tried squirming its way to the front, a thought that would have made him stop and explain to Ian that this was all just some big misunderstanding, but the second Ian pulled down the signature boxers and firmly took hold of Anthony's rapidly hardening erection, feverishly pumping it, the thought was instantly obliterated into a vacuum of nothingness.
Anthony felt his whole body tremble as the growing knot in his stomach began tightening, the overwhelming feeling encompassing his whole being, begging, screaming for more. Ian broke away from the full blown assault on Anthony's mouth to gasp for air and stare into his eyes, pressing his forehead against his. Anthony saw a look that stared right into his soul but only for a moment before Ian had vanished below him, slinking down to his ready to explode cock, still in his hand. He looked up at Anthony, his eyes dripping with the filthiest, desire filled look of lust he'd ever seen on his best friend's face.
Some form of reasoning made its way past Anthony's lips; an unsure, confused and nervous plea that came out as "IanwaitwaitwaitOHGOD!" Ian's mouth had engulfed most of the staff, causing his whole body to arch up and quiver at the sensation. Anthony was reaching his limit. He felt a dull ache in his wrists from the handcuffs, but it wasn't enough to deter the over climatic buildup of ecstasy getting ready to burst through him. "Ian, I have to-I'm gonna…" His muscles began twitching madly and his whole body began to spasm, fists clenching tight, sweat covered body shaking as he came all over the boy above him, sticky hair matted down, and his sticky lips dripping hot with Anthony's own salty, slick cum.
Anthony collapsed back onto the pillow behind him gulping down air as though he were just drowning, his energy completely depleted. Ian climbed up and began kissing him softly, his hands moving to meet his. Anthony kissed back and felt his hands drop to the sides of his body after a click of the key released him.
"Sorry, do your wrists hurt?" Ian asked in a low voice.
Anthony shook his head, too exhausted to reply verbally. He felt Ian's erection pressing against his stomach through his pajamas and knew Ian was begging him to be relieved. Ian's soft blue eyes held the same plea. Anthony forced himself upright against the wall and watched as Ian's eyes light up as he pulled them down, grasping the insistent cock, knowing by now he had long ago past the point of no return, and feeling obliged to return the favor.
The sound of Ian moaning his name and begging for more began to arouse him again. Without thinking he started slowly moving his hands up and down, gradually quickening his pace. He surprisingly (more so to himself) didn't feel too awkward about doing it either, which just baffled him even more.This prank had ended up escalating into something he never in his wildest dreams thought would happen and he was hit with a sudden realization as he shared this most intimate of mornings ever with his best friend.
He was perfectly okay with this.