If you could only read my mind

You would know that things between us

Ain't right

I know your arms are open wide

But you're a little on the straight side

I can't lie

 

Your one vice

Is you're too nice

Come around now can't you see

 

I want you

All tattooed

I want you bad

Complete me

Mistreat me

Want you to be bad

 

If you could only read my mind

You would know that I've been waiting

So long

For someone almost like you

But with attitude, I'm waiting So come on

 

Get out of clothes time

Grow out those highlights

Come around now can't you see

 

I want you

In a vinyl suit

I want you bad

Complicated

X-rated

I want you bad

 

I mean it

I need it

I want you bad.

bad, bad, bad, bad.

Bad.

Really, really bad.

-The Offspring, "Want You Bad"

 

(Andy)

           

       "Dan, you're an idiot," I complained, tugging at the clingy vinyl of my costume.

 

       "Nope, just evil, get it right," he countered. He was right, too. He'd decided to dress as a lumberjack--flannel shirt, jeans, work boots. Comfortable. Meanwhile, he'd convinced me the black Batman costume would look great on me. I should have known right then that he was full of it. Dan LaCouture does not hand out compliments.

 

       "What's with superheroes anyway? Do they forget that the underwear go under the clothes once they have powers? And what in the hell is with this damn toolbelt?"

 

       "Wah, wah, wah," he chuckled as he rang the doorbell, "You're such a wuss, Andy."

 

       Steve Yzerman, dressed convincingly as Darren McCarty with a blacked out tooth and a really horrible blonde wig, answered the door. In the foyer, Brendan Shanahan, a bear, and Chris Chelios, a biker, were talking, and they stopped to greet us. Then we got to the living room, where we spotted Boyd Devereaux, one of Dan’s teammates back in Edmonton, having an animated conversation with Mathieu Dandenault and Sean Avery. Boyd was dressed like Luke Skywalker, Dandy as a storm trooper and, if I wasn't mistaken, Sean was a wookie. Boyd called Dan over, but I headed towards the refreshments. If I was going to be wearing vinyl all night, I needed to get some alcohol in me.

 

(Kirk)

 

       "I fucking hate you, Mac," I grumbled, hugging my coat tighter around me.

 

       "Hey, you agreed to the bed, Kirk. Its not my fault the Lions suck," he countered, laughing, "Besides, quit whining. You haven't even had to show anyone yet."

 

       "But you're going to," Kris added, grinning mischievously, "Coat off, ears on."

 

       I glared at both of them, reluctantly stripping down to the sparkly pink boxer-briefs that I had to wear. They'd glued a fuzzy pink tail to the back, the exact color of the bunny slippers and ears that completed the outfit.

 

       "Awww," Darren cooed, "Hugh Hefner would be so proud. You make such a cute Playboy Bunny."

 

       "Go to hell," I muttered, then spun on my heel and walked away. A low chuckle permeated Steve's living room when I came through the doorway, and I could feel a blush creeping over my face. That knowledge embarrassed me even more so, because I knew for a fact that shade would match the color of the rest of my costume.

 

       I walked over to grab a can of beer, purposefully avoiding the amused stares of my teammates. I took a long drink, then wiped my hand over my mouth. A pair of shining green-brown eyes met me when I turned around. "I think I've found someone even more uncomfortable than I am," he said, lips turned up in a sympathetic smile.

 

       He looked familiar, but I couldn't seem to place him. "Never, ever bet on a football game," I warned him, extending a hand. "Kirk Maltby."

 

       "Andy Ference," he replied, "I'm a friend of one of Boyd's ex-teammates."

 

       "Oh, you play for Pittsburgh, right?" I asked, trying to sneak glances at the rest of him. Comfortable or not, the costume looked damn good on him. The half-mask accentuated the golden flecks in his eyes and offset his square, stubbled jaw. I decided at that moment that I hated Darren and Kris more than before--I did not want Andy's lasting impression of me to be a fuzzy tail.

 

       "Hey, Kirk!" Darren called, appearing beside me, "You forgot the necklace thingy," he said, latching a thin black choker around my throat. He grinned at Andy, "Ain't he cute?"

 

       "Adorable," Andy replied, smiling at me.

 

       I glared at Kirk, humiliated, and turned to walk away, making sure to wiggle my bunny tail at them as I went. Damn Lions, I cursed under my breath.

 

(Andy)

 

       Darren and I laughed as Kirk stomped away, embarrassed. It was hard to look all that menacing, though, when you had a bunny ear flopping over one eye.

 

       One very blue eye.

 

       And, quite frankly, I was contemplating becoming a fan of the Lions, if they were in fact the reason I'd been able to see that much of Kirk Maltby's skin unhindered.

 

       "He is going to kick our asses in practice," Kris said with a laugh, clutching his stomach. "But damn, its worth it. Did you see the look on his face when you put the necklace on?"

 

       And that necklace. The black satin that was now encircling his throat made him look that much more enticing. I eased out of the conversation, asking where the bathroom was. When I got there, the door at the end of the hall, it was closed, with a thin line of light shining from the bottom. I tested the handle quietly, pleased to find it unlocked. I knocked once, hoping I'd guessed right.

 

       "In a minute," Kirk yelled from the other side.

 

       I glanced around, and fortunately, no one was anywhere near the hallway. With a grin on my lips, and entirely too many lascivious thoughts in my head, I pushed the door open.

 

(Kirk)

 

       "What the hell?" I shrieked when the door opened. Fortunately, I'd only been standing at the sink, cursing to myself, so I wasn't in too compromising a position. Nonetheless, I wasn't prepared to have Andy walk in, spin me around and push me back against the door.

 

       "God bless the Lions," Andy growled, his chest pressing against me, his hands holding mine high above my head. His lips punished mine, a bruising, probing kiss that left me dizzy and breathless.

 

       "Jesus, Andy..." I exclaimed, pushing my hips forward to grind against his. He tugged off his mask, and I used the moment of freedom to tangle my fingers in his hair, kissing him roughly, our tongues dancing, battling, back and forth into his mouth, then mine.

 

       "You are so fucking hot," he cursed, pushing his cock, hard and very large, against mine. His lips wrapped around my earlobe, sucking it hard until I moaned his name. He'd seemed shy and quiet when I'd met him, but that person was nowhere to be seen. The change in his personality sent adrenaline coursing through my body and made my heart beat erratically. A deep purr vibrated from his throat, and he nipped at my ear, tugging the lobe with his teeth.

 

       "Andy," I moaned, holding onto his broad, solid shoulders, trying to support the weight that my legs were protesting. "There are people...outside. They could hear...or walk in...or...something," I panted.

 

       He let his tongue swirl down to my throat, stopping where my pulse throbbed, refusing to break his suction on my skin until I gasped. "Your point?" he asked between kissing my Adam's apple and licking the ridge of my collarbone.

 

       I started to protest, but the complaint was swallowed by a growl, because at that moment, he grabbed my ass, pulling me against him so that we fit tightly together.

 

       "Shh," he whispered, raising a finger to my lips. "Someone will hear you." The same finger slipped down my chin, then traced the band of black satin around my neck. I let out a staggered breath, only to suck another one in, a breath full of the scent of him--of faint, musky cologne and something innately masculine.

 

       One hand cradled my face, his thumb rubbing roughly over my bottom lip. He stared hotly into my eyes, leaving me loopy and disoriented; without another word, he started a southbound discovery of me. After leaving a dark purple splotch on my shoulder, his teeth found my nipples, and he went back and forth, sucking and licking and nibbling, torturing each nub equally. Then his tongue led the way down the center of my abs, leaving a wet trail that traced down the muscle, then swirled around and finally dipped into my navel. He sucked on the skin just below my belly button, leaving another mark, as if he were staking a claim. His hands rubbed down the back of my legs, squeezing my calves, then wrapping around my ankles. He pulled on my right leg, tossing off the pink bunny slipper.

 

       "Damn thing is staring at me," he grunted by way of explanation as he discarded the other slipper. He stroked his way back up the sides of my legs, stopping at my hips. He slipped an index finger under the elastic of my boxer-briefs, expelling a long hiss. "Fuck, Kirk...these almost match your fucking skin..." he cursed, slipping the other index finger between skin and fabric. He tugged gently, leaning forward to kiss the bared skin, letting his tongue slide long, lazy strokes over my hipbone, making me growl out a curse.

 

       "Shh, Kirk," he reminded me, pulling the underwear further down. "Fuck..." he whispered as my cock came free, completely hard, the head glossy with precum. I kicked away the boxers, whimpering when Andy paused, hands on my hips, just staring hungrily at me. He glanced up when he heard the noise, his eyes smiling, then licked his lips. One finger slid from my hip to the base of my shaft, then curled around, the tip of the digit meeting with his thumb on the other side. While he stroked me, I watched his face, all passion and concentration; he was nibbling his lower lip, his eyes transfixed on what he was doing to me. Once he reached the head of my dick, his thumb rubbed

back and forth over the head and I grunted in response, thrusting against his hand; at that moment, he pulled his hand away.

 

       I groaned again, a noise that was supposed to resemble his name. He slipped his thumb into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he sampled the taste of me.

 

       "Please..." I whimpered, my voice hoarse.

 

       He grinned again, and his hand returned to my shaft. He stroked me painfully slowly, and he leaned so that his mouth was a few inches from me, blowing lightly on the head of my cock. His other hand held me to the door, keeping me from writhing. I grasped the door handle, because the steady stream of air against the sensitive tip of my dick, combined with the slow, torturous hand job, left my legs shaky.

 

       "Please," I begged again, unable to speak over a whisper. My head was leaned back against the door, my eyes squeezed tight. As I hissed in pleasure, a wet heat swirled over my head, and my eyes snapped open just in time to watch his tongue slipping along the slit where more precum had gathered. Apparently less than satiated with that, Andy's lips opened, taking the tip of my cock into his hot, hot mouth. His tongue kept working, tasting every part of my dick once it entered his mouth. As he licked, he sucked more of me in, until finally, his lips were tight around the base of my erection. His teeth grazed carefully over my hardened flesh, and his tongue slipped all up and down the underside, the sensation of both actions heightened because of the wonderful suction he sustained.

 

       I slipped my fingers into his hair, making sure that he wasn't going to pull away. I tried to thrust against his throat, to bury myself deeper inside of him, but he stopped me, his hands on my hips, holding me to the door. To counter, I pulled his head closer, expelling a long curse when the smooth skin of his throat massaged the head of my cock. He closed his teeth a bit, just enough to warn me, but continued to suck me harder, deeper into his throat.

 

       "Andy," I moaned, a choked plea mixed with a sigh of pleasure. He grasped my hips and pulled me away from the door, and I leaned far forward, having to grasp the edge of the sink behind him for support.

 

       Never breaking suction, his mouth pulled slowly away from my cock, now so hard it was nearly painful. When his lips were around only the head of my dick, his tongue rolled over it and a hand joined his mouth, pumping it roughly, gliding easily over the saliva-slick skin. He sucked at the head of my cock and sped up the pace of his stroking. I cursed again and thrust involuntarily, forcing another two or three inches into his mouth. He didn't complain, rather, he pulled me close, taking my full length into his throat again.

 

       My knees buckled as I came, and I had to bite hard on my lip to keep from screaming. He swallowed quickly and the feel of the muscles in his throat over the head of my cock intensified the orgasm. When I stopped thrusting, Andy wiped a stray drop of cum from his lip, then used the sink to help himself up. His lips found mine, kissing me hard, tottering on brutal. He bit hard on my lip and then thrust his tongue into my mouth, all the while grinding his cock against my hipbone.

 

       "Fuck..." he cursed against my mouth, reaching to try to remove his cape. Eventually, he got rid of it--tearing it completely away from the rest of the costume. I found the tab of the long zipper and tugged on it, unzipping it down to the small of his back. Once there, Andy pushed me away and started to pull the tight vinyl away from his shoulders, exposing first his strong shoulders, then his chest which was covered in tattoos--one large tiger covering each pec.

 

       When the tattoos started to show, I pounced, grabbing the edge of the costume and peeling it down until he was naked from the waist up. I ran my hands over his skin, tracing his tattoos with my fingertips. He sat on the edge of the sink, and I pulled off the rest of his costume, delighted to find him naked underneath. Every inch of his skin shone with sweat--vinyl didn't allow much breathing--and his dick, hard and rigid with an enticing drop of precum at the tip, left me speechless. I stepped between his legs, grasping his thighs, wanting to kiss him again. He stopped me, pushing on my shoulders.

 

       "Knees. Now," he ordered.

 

       I complied, kneeling in front of him. His scent was dizzying...everything about him was just so incredibly intoxicating. I pressed a kiss to the head of his penis, letting my tongue slip out to taste him. He moaned when I slid a hand around his shaft, squeezing it gently. I licked off the precum that had gathered, my tongue rubbing roughly over his head; meanwhile, my hand stroked his length slowly, torturing him with the same lazy strokes he'd frustrated me with.

 

       "Fuck, Kirk," he groaned, pushing his cock further into my mouth. I let him thrust, his length quickly filling my mouth. I pulled away, my lips tight on his shaft, meaning to slide him back in, but he did it for me. He grabbed my head and forced his cock in again, shuddering at the sensation. He thrust against me once more, muttered a curse, then pushed me away. He jumped off of the sink, grabbing a box of condoms from the medicine cabinet. While he pulled one out, I stood behind him, rubbing my dick against him, at the same time as I was filling my hands with his straining cock. I let a hand slip down, cupping his balls, and he trembled, letting his head fall back against my shoulder. I took the opportunity to capture his earlobe between my teeth, biting it roughly, just this side of drawing blood. He moaned loudly and pushed back against me, dropping the box of condoms into the sink and grabbing the edge for support while I stroked, nibbled, and ground my dick against him.

 

       "Hell yes...fucking KY..." he muttered, pulling it from the shelf. Before I could react, he'd spun around and was again pushing me to the door, marking my throat again, sucking hard on the skin below my ear. I whimpered softly as the suction on my neck grew savage, and then he pulled back, ripping the condom's wrapper with his teeth. He rolled it on, stroking his cock once more, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling.

 

       He covered the condom with lubricant, then stepped close to me. His dick pressed wetly at the place where my leg met the rest of my body until he shifted so that it pushed against my renewed erection. He kissed me harshly, his tongue claiming my mouth with long strokes, tasting everywhere it could reach. Two of his fingers, slick with lube, found my entrance and pushed inside, stroking along the walls, teasing my prostate.

 

       I shivered and moaned, sagging against the door. He grabbed my ass with both hands, lifting me off of the ground. I helped, wrapping my legs tight around his waist. He pushed my hard against the door, reaching down to grab his dick, positioning the head right outside of my body. He kissed me again, sucking on my bottom lip, then thrust inside. I tried to scream, but he bit my lip, a silent threat, and I stayed as quiet as possible, only allowing a harsh gasp to escape.

 

       He'd pushed himself partially in, and then he pulled out until only an inch of him remained. He whispered my name hoarsely, then thrust again, this time filling me completely. I shuddered again, tightening my legs around his waist.

 

       He started moving, a slow back and forth motion that crushed me against the door with each thrust, pushing himself as deep into me as possible.

 

       "So...fucking...tight," he gasped, his white-knuckled hands grasping the doorframe. He sped up his movements, building the rhythm to a furious tempo, until I was positive that everyone at the Halloween party would hear him pounding me against the door. That observation made my nerves coil tighter; the already heady sensation of his rigid length inside of me, pressing hard at just the right place, was heightened, carried off to somewhere high in the atmosphere. I closed my eyes and laid my head on his shoulder, letting the lightheaded feeling overtake me. I didn't need the ground, because he filled me, his hard, thick cock was stretching and burning me.

 

       He filled me in every way other than physical, as well. His scent was all I could breathe, his voice was all I could hear, and the salt of his skin was lingering on my tongue.

 

       I tried to say his name, but it came out as a noiseless whisper when darkness slipped around me. A powerful orgasm exploded between my chest and his, strong enough that it surely would have brought me to my knees if he hadn't been holding me up, supporting my writhing, panting, screaming body.

 

       "Jesus, Kirk...I told you not too...scream..." Andy growled, pumping his hips against me even faster.

 

       In response, I lazily lifted my head, letting my tongue slip along the edge of his ear, then whispered, "No one tells me what to do..."

 

       On his next thrust, I tightened my muscles around him, squeezing my legs to hold him there. He cursed again, a loud, tortured sound, and then his muscles hardened as he catapulted into oblivion with me. His teeth sank into the skin of my neck, holding on until his shuddering orgasm finally stopped. When his body relaxed again, he collapsed against me, crushing me between him and the door, slowly sliding us down to the floor, his cock, relatively soft now, sliding easily out of me.

 

       He laid between my legs, licking at the would he'd created while he'd come, his tongue soothing the tender skin. "Do you think they heard us?" he asked a few moments later while he wiped me clean with a warm, wet washcloth.

 

       "Probably," I shrugged, not particularly caring. In all truthfulness, despite my usual shyness where public displays of affection were concerned, the lack of privacy, and the possibility of being caught, had turned me on even more. And Andy--with his rough approach, that raspy growl, and of course, those goddamn tattoos--had been the perfect partner for the exhibition.

 

       In fact...

 

       I grabbed the washcloth from his hands, kissed each of his fingers, then wrapped his hand around my cock again.

 

       I wasn't done being bad.