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There was no better hotbed of rumor and gossip than the back row of a lecture hall. Packed to the gills for the first few weeks before attendance petered out and more seats freed up closer to the front, roiling with stories of O-Week parties, hook ups, and the under-the-table hazing frats tried to sneak past the administration and camp-po.
For the record, Alex didn’t enjoy sitting in the back. Sitting in the back meant his freshly-diagnosed ADHD was going to turned up to eleven, his brain regrettably on the fritz for the rest of the day. Sitting in the back meant constant distraction, not hearing the lecturer right, and occasionally not properly seeing the slide projections. Sitting the back also meant that Alex had been late.
He hated being late. Nothing felt more like a besmirching of his own good name than showing up a moment less than on time. Even worse when it was through no fault of his own. Alex couldn’t control the days when the subway wasn’t on fire. The city couldn’t even do that.
At least, Dr. Srivastava seemed to be an even keeled sort of man, unbothered by the chicanery of the first week. Alex had come in during his wind up, but he hadn’t heard any threats to lock the doors the moment class started. Dr. Richards and the administration had gotten an earful from the Fire Marshal about that one.
Alex found a seat, the third row from the absolute back, and tried to focus. His laptop was open, his notes document standing by ready but remaining painfully blank. He stared ahead, seeing Srivastava’s neatly formatted slides on course procedure, and taking in nothing at all.
There was too much whispering, too much muttering. He couldn’t focus on a damned thing. Not Srivastava, not the slides, not even his own winding thoughts, no matter how hard he ground his back molars together.
And then —.
“Guys can’t fake orgasms. You’re losing it, I’m tell you.”
Another voice scoffed. “I swear, man, he faked it. I don’t know how, but he fucking did.”
Alex’s brain didn’t need much more to latch on. The rest of the lecture be damned. The day was a lost cause any way.
“Not possible.”
“You believe in fucking ghosts, dude.”
“So?”
“So. You’re saying it’s impossible for a guy to fake coming, but that haunted houses are totally real. What kinda busted logic is that?”
“Shut up. I know what I saw. I was literally inside him.”
“Big fuckin’ deal. I fucked him too, and he definitely came.”
“You came on his stomach, dude. How would you know?”
“I do know.”
“Maybe I’m right.”
“Or maybe you just don’t know what to do with your dick.”
“Fuck off.”
They trailed off afterwards, falling into mutterings about NFL brackets, a weekend party at FiJi, and someone called Sydney Sweeney, but Alex’s brain stayed firmly on the first subject. His mind circled it over and over, feeling less like thoughts and more like the tiny whirlpool created by a bathtub draining. Alex tried to snap himself out of it, tried to refocus by inhaling the scent of his coffee like whippets.
It was certainly possible, wasn’t it?
Alex wasn’t pre-med, but he had passed AP Bio with flying colors and a 4 on the exam. He knew enough to say that there were all sorts of strange possibilities the human body was capable of, whether he could name them or not. There were mental blocks and side effects and just plain old genetics doing strange things in the system. Not to mention the whole realm of sexuality and asexuality; the array of fascinating grey areas Alex was just coming to learn about himself and see all around him on campus.
It had to be possible, he thought. Shocking, striking, and new to him, sure, but not outside the realm of the plausible.
By the end of class, Alex had taken no notes. He’d not heard a single word that passed Dr. Srivastava’s lips. He knew he’d pay dearly for it later and sent up a silent prayer that the TA’s recitation periods would be worth his while.
As he shoved his laptop into his bag, his impulse caught him and forced him to turn around to the row behind him. “Hey.”
Two boys in joggers and pajama pants regarded him cautiously. “Hey.”
Alex leaned forward to let people in his row pass. “Did you really sleep with a guy who couldn’t come?”
One rolled his eyes while the other smirked. Smirk was the one with the answer. “Who wants to know?”
“I mean.” Alex waved a hand. “I do. Obviously.”
“Why?”
“I’m pre-med,” he lied.
Eye-roller stared at him. “In an 8am art history class?”
Alex gave him a pointed look. “You’re here too aren’t you?”
Eye-roll shrugged and didn’t answer.
Smirk just couldn’t help himself. “What? D’you wanna play doctor? See if you can diagnose him or something?”
“No,” Alex scoffed. “It just sounds really far-fetched.”
“Thank you!” Eye-roll said.
“It’s not,” Smirk brushed off his friend. “His name’s Henry. He’s British. If you track him down, you can see for yourself.”
“How sure are you that was his name?” Alex asked. There were plenty of one night stands in his memory that resulted in great sex and no names.
“I saw his ID.” Smirk shouldered his bag. “If you track him down, good fuckin’ luck, man.”
“Who says I’m gonna?” Alex asked, moving towards the end of the aisle and the lecture hall doors.
“The look on your face,” Smirk said. Eye-roll pulled away, but he lingered long enough to lean close to Alex, the same way rival team captains would try on him before a lacrosse game. “You’re not the only one I can compare notes with though.”
He walked off, joining his friend at the door. Alex’s mind whirred with no traction again. He stared blankly ahead, wrapping his brain around the last five minutes before stuffing it deep down in his brain.
It was stupid. It was a challenge. Alex knew better than to rise to it, curiosity or no.
Nora’s choices in parties was getting more questionable as the years wore on. Floors sticky with beer and getting black-out drunk on jungle juice wasn’t exactly Alex’s modus operandi, but he still went along. Nora could hold her own without him, but he didn’t know how to test drive his queerness without her giving him a push.
She’d long ago traipsed off to another part of the apartment, arm and arm with a tall, pink-haired man. Alex had been considering trying his luck until Nora had called dibs. He didn’t mind. It was no secret that he’d hear all about it by the end of the weekend.
Alex perched on a windowsill, the cold glass helping him keep his head as he nursed his third White Claw. The hour hand was sitting on midnight, the tone shifting as party-goers drifted into corners, danced slower, and drank past reasonability. Alex was thinking about calling it quits, just as soon as he finished his this last, lukewarm can.
A pair of jean-clad legs appeared in front of him, the fabric tightening down on defined thighs as the wearer sat on the back of the sofa. “Would you mind company?”
Alex smirked, a smarmy no one talks like that sitting in his throat. Then he looked up. Finding himself caught in the centers of a very pretty pair of blue eyes, he felt the snark die on his tongue. “N-no. Not at all.”
“Lovely.” Blue Eyes smiled down at him. A wave of blond hair caught every shade of the color-changing strip lights bordering the ceiling. “Someone like you shouldn’t be lonely.”
“Oh no?” Alex smiled, taking a slow drink. The cherry flavor was medicine-adjacent now, but Alex hardly noticed compared to the soft pout of the other’s lips. The even softer lilt of his accent.
Blue Eyes shook his head. “Every party I go to, handsome boys like you get snapped up before I can say hello.”
“Well, lucky for you, sweetheart, you had me at hello.” Alex winked.
Blue Eyes shot him a withering look before dissolving into laughter. “That was horrendous.”
“I know. Wasn’t it great?” Alex chuckled. “Still want to take me home now?”
“Would you let me?”
Alex blinked, surprise catching him. “You want to?”
“Would I have come over if I didn’t?” Blue Eyes asked slowly. His smile was sweet, his expression open and genuine. He held out a hand. “I’m Henry.”
“Alex.” He took the offered hand and squeezed it, holding it as he stood up from the window. “Your place or mine, sweetheart?”
Henry flushed pink. “Not a convenient nook down the hallway?”
“I mean, if you like something like that…” Alex trailed off slyly.
“Mine then.” Henry stood up. He had a few inches on Alex, but that made him even more intriguing. “I live two floors down.”
“Way closer than me.”
“I had a feeling.”
“Yeah, no, two floors is easier than two subway stops.” Alex abandoned his can on the window sill, squeezing past Henry to round the couch. “C’mon. Lead the way.”
They made it to the stairwell door before Alex decided he couldn’t go another step without knowing how soft Henry’s mouth was. He gracelessly shoved Henry against the wall, capturing his mouth in kiss that quickly turned consuming, slick and hot and open-mouthed. One of Henry’s thick thighs slotted between Alex’s. His fingers gripped tighter as Alex ground down against the firm muscle.
“You’re a menace,” Henry panted as they broke apart. He didn’t look anything less than delighted by the face.
Alex held himself up by a palm pressed to the wall. “Born to it, sweetheart. Thoughts?”
“Many.”
“Good?”
“All good.” Henry pushed back, fisting the front of Alex’s shirt as he lost balance. “Mostly about how you’d feel in my mouth when I’m on my knees for you.”
“Fuck yes,” Alex groaned, leaning in for another kiss.
Henry held him off, but only just. “Hands to yourself until we get to mine. Can you do that?”
Alex nodded, right on the cusp of too eager. Henry didn’t seem to mind. He took Alex’s hand in his and pushed into the stair well. They rushed down two flights, through another doorway, and down an identical hallway. Henry unlocked his apartment door, blue eyes flaring mischievously as he shoved Alex through it.
“You didn’t come.”
Henry’s hand stopped suddenly, tea halfway to his mouth. His blue eyes blinked in dull surprise. “Pardon?”
“Last night,” Alex clarified. “We had sex and you didn’t come.”
It wasn’t delicate. It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t exactly a battering ram, but it certainly wasn’t the most comfortable thing to launch into while lounging in someone’s apartment after hooking up.
“I did,” Henry replied, a bit quickly.
“No, you didn’t,” Alex insisted. He pushed as gently as he possibly could, not wanting Henry’s languid mood to turn on him. He kept his hands to himself, but slid a bit closer, tilting his head and smiling. “Sweetheart, if I didn’t get you there, you should have said something. That’s not fair.”
Henry stared at Alex as he sipped his tea. No words came, but Alex could see the gears turning in his head. He swallowed a mouthful, choosing his words carefully. “No, I suppose it isn’t.”
“I’m not the most experienced with men,” Alex continued. “And there’s definitely been a learning curve.” He took a drink. “But you wouldn’t have hurt my feelings.”
“I didn’t know that last night,” Henry said quietly.
Alex shook his head. “We didn’t do much talking until after, Henry. You couldn’t have.” He set his mug on a side table, then reached out to lay a hand on Henry’s knee. “But I’ve said it now. So maybe we could do it again.”
“Again.”
“Yeah. You know.” A kernel of doubt began to sprout in his stomach, worry growing with it. “If it wasn’t too disappointing?”
Henry gaped at him, then his brow furrowed. “You weren’t disappointing, Alex.”
Alex arched a brow. “You can be honest. I could use a few lessons.”
“No, Alex, really.” Henry sighed. “You weren’t disappointing. It was fun, and you’re very sweet.” His voice trailed off as a pink flush colored his cheeks. “It’s me, not you, love. I promise.”
“Okay…” Alex looked him up and down. “Would you, you know, want to do this again?”
“I—.” Henry bit into his lip, quickly covering his expression with his mug. “It’s probably for the best that we didn’t.”
“For the best?”
“Yes.”
“Can I ask why?”
“I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“I’m not asking for one.” Alex reached for his coffee again and drank deeply. “Like you said, it was fun. And you’re hot, and I—.”
“It’s not you, it’s me, Alex,” Henry interrupted. “I meant that when I said it.” He let out an embarrassed huff of a laugh. The flush had taken a turn towards raspberry, making his eyes seem impossibly blue. “I can’t come. It’s not you. It’s me. I’m the disappointing one, love, not you.”
Alex blinked, brain spinning up again. He sipped his coffee to the tune of the two voices in Srivastava’s lecture that he had avoided since that first class. “You…You can’t come?”
“You heard me.” Henry turned away from him. He rested his chin on the back of the couch, partially blocking his face with his mug.
“Is...” Alex shook his head. “Sorry. Like medically cannot or—?”
“No. I don’t know. I—.” Henry exhaled a hard and cut off.
“Henry—.”
“If you want to go, just go. It’s alright, no hard or hurt feelings at all.”
Alex frowned. “Do you want me to go?”
Henry rolled his shoulders but didn’t answer.
“Jesus, Henry. If you want me to go, just say so.”
“I don’t, but I don’t know what more to say,” Henry said. “There’s never been a time where someone has wanted to know more, and we don’t know one another. Not really. And it isn’t exactly fair, considering you were more or less a very handsome experiment last night.”
“Wait, wait,” Alex said. “I was your experiment?”
Henry lowered to mug to stare at him. Derisive and defensive, but Alex couldn’t help thinking the bite-less glare was endearing on him. “You resemble an actor I find rather attractive. I was curious if, perhaps, that vague, daft fantasy would do the trick.”
Alex giggled, earning himself a stronger glare. He waved a hand and shook his head. “Not you. Not laughing at you, I swear.”
“Then what are you laughing at?” Henry asked imperiously.
“You picked me, hoping I could get you off,” Alex began. He pointed to himself. “I said yes because I’ve only ever slept with one other guy.”
Henry’s brows rose to his hairline. “Only one?”
Alex nodded. “I’d never put anyone in my mouth before.”
Henry snorted indelicately. “Explains why you were so eager.”
“That’s not even the half of it, sweetheart. I can be way more eager, and way more annoying if my exes are to be believed.” Alex pushed a hand through his hair.
Leaning back against the couch cushions, he caught Henry’s gaze resting on him — head on his arms, cheek turned and chin tucked to watch Alex with wide blue eyes. A smattering of freckles rested across his nose, shaded by Henry’s sandy flop of hair. A few moles highlighted his cupid’s bow, his jaw, and the column of his neck. He blinked slowly, breathed deeply, but still seemed on edge somehow.
“Can I ask?” Alex began, voice softer than before. He waited until Henry nodded. “What do you think it is?”
Henry exhaled. “Three doctors have given me a clean bill of health. A therapist I’ve seen believes it’s a mental block, and I’m inclined to believe her.”
“Erm.” Alex swallowed. “How long..?”
“Three years, give or take.”
“Vaya.” Alex stared at him. “Not even when you’re alone?”
Henry shook his head.
“That sounds miserable, sweetheart.”
Henry smirked. “It is. I’m a bit emotionally dulled to it now, but my libido hasn’t been. Still as strong as ever.” The curve of his lips crumbled at the corner. “It’s all arousal, then just when I feel close, it falls off to nothing.”
“Strange.”
“Indeed.”
Alex licked his lips. His curiosity was twisting itself up. He wanted so badly to ask, to dig, to poke and prod and examine every facet of Henry’s predicament as if it was an in-class debate. He pulled himself up short. Henry had already divulged a good chunk of himself, laid it out on the couch between them for Alex to consider. His nature was to keep going. His brain told him to keep his tongue in check.
Henry’s steady stare was altogether different. “You can’t fix it, Alex. I don’t think there is fixing it.”
“Mental blocks can get knocked down.”
“Yes, but I’d rather not be someone’s curiosity,” Henry mumbled. “Ruined my last relationship, and I’m fairly certain one of the fraternities has a tactless reward for who can make my — quote — cream my jeans.”
Alex’s nose wrinkled. “You’re fucking kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
Alex thought of the two from his lecture, bile rising in his throat. “That’s fucked up, sweetheart.”
“I know.”
“There’s a special place in hell for those fuckers.”
Henry laughed lightly at Alex’s ire, but didn’t say anything. He sipped his tea, pulled a blanket closer around his legs. Alex watched him arrange the fabric. It had to be impenetrably lonely.
“Do you not do relationships because of how your last one ended?” Alex asked.
Henry nodded. “Not worth getting involved if I’m only going to get laughed at or if they’re only going to grow frustrated with me. I’m too clumsy to negotiate such fragile displays of masculinity, you understand?”
“I wanna put that on a tee shirt,” Alex replied.
“I’d let you.” Henry hummed. “I comfort myself knowing it was never going to last. He was older. I was leaving London for school. I should be grateful it ended cleanly rather than bit by bit over ages.”
“How long were you together?”
“Two years.”
“How much older?”
Henry’s eyes glittered. “The first time we slept together, I was eighteen and he was twenty-six.”
“Christ on a bike.” Alex didn’t mean to startle, but he did. He fumbled with his coffee cup, earning Henry’s laugh at his expense. “Damn, good for you sweetheart.”
Henry half-shrugged. “Would have been better if all the equipment worked properly.”
“Henry.”
“Don’t Henry me. I’ve known you for twelve hours,” Henry said. “And it’s the truth.”
Alex pressed his lips together. Shame started to cloud in on Henry’s pretty features, curling over his shoulders and shrinking his tall frame in on itself. He wasn’t wrong — Alex was just a hook up who was over-staying his welcome, but Henry was letting him. That had to mean something beyond Henry just finding him attractive.
At the very least, Alex was hoping it did. He was starting to feel something knotting up in his chest — a crush, affection, a giddy skipping need to do something for this person. For Henry.
Alex rose from the couch and held a hand out to Henry. “Want more tea?”
“Yes, please,” Henry said gratefully. He passed over his mug, then curled back up again.
“Back in a flash.” Alex strode to the tiny square kitchen. He refilled Henry’s mug with hot water and a fresh tea bag pulled from the open box on the counter. The coffee in the press had gone cold, so Alex refilled his and popped it into the microwave for thirty seconds before returning to the living room.
Henry eyed his mug suspiciously as Alex pressed it into his palms. “Did you microwave this?”
“I microwaved mine,” Alex corrected. “I know we Americans leave something to be desired tea wise, but I’m from Texas and I know how to brew tea okay?”
Henry raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not summer without iced tea with lemon, jackass.”
“Ah.”
“Plus my sister keeps a whole stash of herbal shit in my apartment and I can read directions just fine.” He settled himself onto the couch. “Get sassy with me about it and I’ll tell you tale of the diner waitress who brews tea in a coffee pot.”
Henry’s mouth dropped open, shock and disgust in every blink. “Good lord.”
“So, drink up and be grateful I didn’t put you in front of Gina.” Alex pressed his curled fist into the meat of his cheek. “You were with this guy for two years and he never got you—.”
“I beg you to not,” Henry hissed, humiliation flooding his cheeks in rosy pink. His freckles stood out just then, looking a very pretty cola-splatter under his blue eyes.
Alex raised an eyebrow. “But he didn’t?”
“No,” Henry said, looking stricken. “Didn’t even come close.”
“How’d you hide it?”
“Oldest trick in the book,” Henry shrugged. “I watched When Harry Met Sally from the stairs when I was ten years old.”
Alex laughed, startled all over again. “You faked? Really?”
“Christ, Alex. Of course I did!” Henry scoffed. “I was besotted, and he was handsome, and I wanted someone to be mine.” That old shame was back on his face, slithering down his neck, and burrowing into the slope of his shoulders. “But, of course, the truth well out. There’s only so many times one can fake a prostate orgasm before even the dimmest of bulbs gets wise to the trick.”
“And he dumped you?”
Henry withered another fraction. “Yes, Alex. He dumped me.” Henry covered his eyes with his hand and drank the last of his tea. “You’re really quite dangerous, do you know that?”
“Well, I do now,” Alex said. “Mind telling me why exactly?”
“You’ve got those eyes—.” Henry waved a hand blindly in his direction. “Big and bloody earnest with those fucking eyelashes.” He huffed and sent Alex a glare with no heat or sharpness. “And if that weren’t bad enough for me, you also have to go and show yourself to be an excellent listener, attentive, and generous. Not to mention, this whole conversation started with you insisting I tell you how to get me off.”
“Those sound like good things to me,” Alex replied.
“They are. You are, and that’s precisely the problem.” Henry sighed. “Under any other circumstance, Alex, I’d want nothing more than to take you to dinner and then back to bed—.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because you’ll get bored of me! You’ll get frustrated, you’ll leave!” Henry slouched back into the cushions. “Hook ups and one night stands might be soul sucking for a romantic like me, but they’re the easiest thing to hide behind.”
Alex hummed a single displeased note. “You’re making’ a lot of assumptions there, Henry.”
“Are they assumptions if they regularly prove to be true?”
“About someone else, maybe, but not about me.”
“How could I possibly know whether or not they’ll be true about you too, Alex. It’s been twelve hours and one enthusiastic blowjob.”
Alex rolled his eyes, holding up fingers as he rattled off a quick list. “Oye. One, I don’t like when someone tries to make up my mind for me. Two, don’t automatically assume I’m not made of stronger stuff. And three, who’s to say I’m not exactly what you need.”
“Now who’s making the assumptions?” Henry muttered.
“Listen.” Alex leaned back into Henry’s space. “You’ve been burned before, and that’s not fair to you. But.” He rested a hand on the curve of his calf, squeezing his fingers lightly. “I like you. A lot, and only after twelve hours. So why don’t you give me a shot?”
“A shot at what, exactly?”
“Dating you, or at least making you feel good,” Alex answered. “I mean, faking it every time you want someone to touch you must get tiring at the best of times.”
“And I should come to you?” Henry arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “That’s what I’m saying.” Alex squeezed his hand again, watching Henry’s resolve start to wobble. “Let me take you out for tacos or drinks or something. You get what you want from me and maybe your mental block doesn’t feel so bad.”
Henry frowned. “Am I a challenge to you then?”
“You’re being challenging, maybe.” Alex shrugged. “But if you’re talking a challenge like those frat assholes who have something to prove, no. You’re not.”
“Then what is this?” Henry asked. “Exactly. To you.”
“You want set expectations?”
“Preferably.”
“Alright.” Alex polished off the last of his coffee. “I like you. I think you’re hot and I’d like to suck you off again if given half the chance. I’m not trying to fix you or anything, but maybe we’ll stumble into it by accident or something. So maybe we have a good time for however long this lasts. At the very least, I’ll show you the best birria spot in the city, sweetheart.”
Henry chewed deeply into his bottom lip, thinking hard and sweetly incredulous. “Stumble into it by accident. Really?”
“I don’t know,” Alex said, grinning brightly. “You were pretty loud last night, and I didn’t even get you to come.”
“Alex.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky or something! I love a challenge, so like challenge fucking accepted.” Alex prodded Henry in the ribs, garnering the barest shreds of a smile. “But I also want to see where this goes. With you. So, what d’you say? Take a chance on me, baby?”
Henry huffed and rolled his eyes, fondness crinkling the corners. “I’ll take a chance on your mouth, certainly.”
“That’s the sweetest thing anything’s ever said to me.” Alex winked.
“Low bar.”
“Just stepping over it, Henry.” Alex prodded him again. “So, would you rather have eggs and toast or me for breakfast?”
Henry licked his lips, gaze turning darker by shades. “Well. I wouldn’t want to give any lessons in fellatio on an empty stomach.”
Alex laughed, then held a hand out for Henry. “Show me to your skillets.”
Alex tapped his pencil against his jaw. His knee bounced, upsetting the notebook resting there. “Fuck. I need more data.”
Henry lifted his eyes from a worn copy of Sanditon, a pen perched behind his ear. “What sort of data?”
“You data.”
Henry’s eyebrows rose, his next question obvious.
Alex sighed. “About you. What you like, don’t like, might like but haven’t really tried—.”
“You could ask me,” Henry replied with a hesitant smile. “I am sitting right here.”
Only because I nearly begged, Alex thought idly. He hadn’t managed to fully convince Henry to take a chance on him that first morning, but he had left with Henry’s number in his cellphone and sweet, lingering sort of kiss. Alex hadn’t wanted to do more than just this — a no pressure meet up in the library cafe — but it’s what Henry had suggested. Contrary to popular belief, Alex would occasionally take what was given to him — especially when it concerned a very handsome man with the most talented tongue that side of the Atlantic.
Besides, Alex wanted to give Henry exactly what he wanted. Reciprocity was a thing for him, no matter the activity involved.
“Alright.” Alex rolled his next words around in his mouth, mindful of the people around them; of Henry sipping his earl grey and swallowing. “Top or bottom.”
Henry jolted. “Right to the point, I see.”
“Have you met me?” Alex teased. “What were you expecting?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Henry closed his book on his thumb. “How was your morning? What book are you reading? What’s your favorite color, perhaps?”
Alex lounged back in his chair, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. “What’s your favorite color?”
“I quite like green. You?”
“Blue, which feels basic but eh.”
“There are so many shades though.”
“Right? Thank you!” Alex tapped his foot twice. “What’s your favorite position?”
“And there we go again.” Henry chuckled. “I think you’ll find I’m quite versatile, darling. Despite all…” He trailed off as if asking Alex to keep going; an open invitation for whatever he was going to pounce on next.
“Does that also cover my first question?” Alex asked.
Henry half-shrugged. “Somewhat. I can elaborate, if you’re curious.” Henry nodded towards Alex’s open, blank notebook page. “For your data gathering.”
Alex smirked. “Yes, please.”
“Trying rather valiantly to unstopper my brain, aren’t you?” Henry set his book aside, reaching for his tea as he leaned forward on the table. “Should I be worried?”
“Eh. No.” Alex pushed himself closer to the table. “It’s not really about that either. I mean, it would probably help if it was or maybe if it works, but—.” Alex cut himself off sharply, looking sheepishly at Henry. “You really should just tell me to shut up, okay?”
“I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you.” Henry smiled mildly. “So, you want intimate data. That’s what I’m hearing?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then we should make this a mutual effort.” Henry leaned forward so only Alex could hear him, clasping his hands in front of him. “Top or bottom, Alexander?”
Alex flushed hot. “Okay. I get why that was startling before.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“I’m wicked not.”
“Then answer it.”
“You answer first.”
“Alright.” Henry plucked the pen from behind his ear and pulled Alex’s notebook closer. “So. I am fairly versatile, but am especially receptive when things have been discussed beforehand.” He grinned at Alex, dotting the end of a sentence. “I love a good negotiation, darling.”
Alex snorted. “Good thing I’m pre-law then. What else?”
“I prefer to bottom,” Henry continued, turning back to the page. It slowly filled with neat, curling script as Alex watched. “I love giving head, tying and being tied up, spanking, hair-pulling, and occasionally being called pretty. But, again, am interested in whatever would satisfy both parties.” Henry paused, tapping his pen against his full bottom lip. “Well, as much as we both can be satisfied, I suppose.”
“Hey, if you’d rather we didn’t—.”
“Oh no, I really would,” Henry cut him off efficiently. “It won’t go anywhere, but I can’t remember the last time someone was fully invested in my satisfaction, so—.” He pushed the notebook back towards Alex. “Your turn.”
Alex inhaled and exhaled as slowly as he could. He pressed his pencil to the paper, already annoyed by how his slanting chicken scratch would look next to Henry’s fastidious cursive. “I like lists, helados, and drinking more coffee than blood in my body.”
Henry tilted his head, the flop of his hair giving him a boyish look. “Just general information then?”
“Well, I figured, since we’re getting to know each other and all,” Alex drawled, finishing with a wink. “I’ve only ever topped. That night with you was the furthest I’ve gone with a man, but I’d like to try everything at least once. So…” He huffed a laugh. “I guess what I’m saying is that I’m versatile too.”
“Wonderful.”
“Versatile, but with hair pulling,” Alex continued, feigning thoughtfulness. “And praise. That always goes over well.”
Henry studied him, blue eyes glittering merrily. “So, you’d be amenable to being called a good boy while I’m on my knees for you.”
Alex might have been embarrassed of the noise that came out of his mouth. His only saving grace was his brain trying in vain to catch up. The image had brought every thought to a screeching halt.
“Alright there, love?” Henry asked, as if he didn’t know exactly what he’d just done.
“Boy, I tell you what.” Alex let out a slow breath. “If we weren’t in the middle of campus…”
“If we weren’t…” Henry trailed off, the toe of his boot trailing up and down Alex’s ankle. “What?”
Alex struggled for words. Finally: “My place is two blocks from here.”
“Are you asking or telling me?”
“Asking,” Alex said. He was certain. “Want to go test some of our newfound data, Henry?”
Henry was already stuffing his book back into his messenger bag. Coat tugged on, bag on his shoulder, he held a hand out to Alex with a tentative smile. “Lead the way, Alex.”
“All the way to my bed,” Alex whispered. Henry’s hand was warm and dry as he tugged him towards the door. The pink in his cheeks certainly wasn’t from the January wind down West Third.
Safe to say, Alex did enjoy being called a good boy in Henry’s rounded, posh vowels. He also very much enjoyed the sight of Henry on his knees, saliva dribbling out of the corner of his mouth as he took Alex to the base, blue eyes blinking bleary with desire. He also definitely enjoyed Henry’s hands in his hair as he guided Alex through his first blow job; his patient tone laced with fresh lust, the pink in his cheeks as Alex took him closer and closer.
He didn’t like the flinch of disappointment in Henry’s face when the peak vanished out from under him, over sensitivity setting in quickly. Alex kissed him happy again, talking Henry into staying for some mid-afternoon bourbon and leftover arepas, but his stubbornness lingered.
There was more to this than inexperienced or selfish partners, he reasoned as they watched television. There was more to Henry than a very talented tongue and the nastiness of frat house bets, but even Henry seemed to have forgotten that. Alex happily watched Henry stuff his face, deciding he had a few things to do here.
One: prove that this ‘mental block’ wasn’t as big a hurdle as it seemed to be.
Two: make Henry feel seen, heard, felt, and appreciated.
Three: if time permitted, take a few good hard swings at said mental block, and see if it was any match for the patented Claremont-Diaz stubborn motherfucker gene.
Alex kept it to himself and sealed it with a kiss — only after licking a bit of avocado from Henry’s cupid’s bow. He couldn’t help himself. It tasted better that way anyway.
“If you’re cool with it,” Alex eased in, resting a hand at the small of Henry’s back. “I’d like to try something with you.”
Henry took him in slowly as he leaned against the bar. “Tell me?”
“You said you didn’t mind a little dirty talk.”
“It never hurt.” The corner of Henry’s mouth turned up.
Alex leaned closer, a smirk of his own starting to form. “Well, would you be up for a little dirty talk with maybe a little role play?”
“What kind of role play?” Henry’s voice was just audible over the music pulsing through the bar. His fingers curled around his glass, gaze never leaving Alex as he drank.
“Something basic,” Alex said with a shrug. He hadn’t thought that far. “I’m someone important and you’re my dirty, flirty, little squeeze thing that I take to my office for nooners.”
Henry snorted. “Dirty, flirty, little squeeze thi—.”
“It sounds stupid when you say it.” Alex rolled his eyes. “And fine.” He let his eyes slip to Henry’s trousers. “Not so little.”
Henry shook his head. “So, I’m your blond secretary, and you’re the hot-shot law partner.”
“Oh. That could work.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You didn’t say no thought.”
“No, I did not.” Henry exhaled, then downed the rest of his drink. He turned to Alex and batted his eyelashes, purposefully making a meal out of it. “Take me home, darling.”
Alex licked his lips. “How about a bathroom stall?”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m really not.”
Henry swore under his breath. Then pushed away from the bar. “Count to twenty five, then follow. Pay our tab first.”
“Got it.”
“Tip well.”
“Well duh.” Alex watched him go, sipping his tequila. He counted to twenty-five, then asked for the bill. He paid, finished his drink, then followed to the bathroom.
Henry was scowling at him. “Rather long wait for something that was your idea, love.”
Alex shrugged and flipped the lock. He shoved his hands into his pockets, sauntering forward. “Didn’t know you were so desperate for it, baby.”
“I’m always desperate for you,” Henry breathed, tracking him as he came closer. “Especially when you call me that.”
“Call you what?”
Henry whimpered. “You know what.”
Alex grinned. “I’d really rather hear you say it.”
Henry’s eyes darkened. “Baby.”
Henry lunged for him, sealing their mouths together and letting Alex crowd him up against the wall. Alex ground their hips together, feeling Henry grow harder and more frantic under him. His hands smoothed down the length of Henry’s sides and hips, curving up under his thighs. He squeezed, then lifted, earning himself a startled moan.
“Good?” Alex asked.
“Peachy,” Henry gasped. “Are you going to fuck me, sir?”
Alex snorted.
Henry raised an eyebrow. “No sir?”
Alex shook his head. “Nope.”
“Then I’ll let you prompt me on this improv,” Henry smirked. “Alexander.”
The lilt of his voice, his low and honeyed tone, went straight to Alex’s dick. His hips jerked against Henry’s, unconsciously seeking more friction than their jeans would give them. “Wait.”
“That?”
“That.”
“Well,” Henry drawled. “I can certainly work with that.”
“I’m sure you can, baby.” He leaned in, licking a stripe up the pale column of Henry’s neck. “You were a mess out there, baby,” Alex murmured, honeyed and low. “Sweaty. Unfocused. Delicious.”
“Alexander,” Henry breathed, sinking deeper into Alex’s hold. Only whimpers broke the surface.
“I like you like that. Seeing you messy like that.” Alex bit and sucked at his ear, hand trailing lower to take hold of them both. “Squirm for me, baby. C’mon…”
Henry gasped. He keened. He clung to his shoulders and licked into his mouth, feverish as his thighs tightened around Alex’s waist. The air around them turned hot and heavy. The bar behind the locked bathroom door was long forgotten.
“This is awfully nice for a Thursday night,” Henry said, squeezing Alex’s fingers. He didn’t seem too put out by the fact.
“What?” Alex teased, waiting for the host to return. “Am I incapable of doing something nice?”
To be fair, Sahib was a little bit pricier than the usual college student date spots or their usual sandwiches, dim sum, and the taco truck on Bleeker Street. June had recommended it when he asked, trying hard to get out of him why he was looking to impress someone while still buried in Philosophy papers.
Alex hadn’t said, and he wasn’t planning to. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he was waiting. For Alex to feel at home in his sexuality. For Henry to give him a sign that he wanted him to stick around. For something to fall into place like movies and romance novels seemed to insist they always would.
For now, this was just a date. A nice date, but he had only promised existence not quality. Alex wanted to take Henry some place nice with white tablecloths and little candles in the center of them. Henry had mentioned that he hadn’t gotten Indian food in ages and was craving it. Seemed like a match made in heaven — or, at very least, a road map Alex didn’t have to ask for.
“I’ve only known you for a month, love,” Henry replied. “Forgive the learning curve.”
“Nothing to forgive, sweetheart,” Alex replied. He leaned up to kiss Henry on the cheek, giving his backside a good squeeze at the same time.
The Brit’s undignified squeak and raspberry red blush was worth it. “Fiend. Menace.”
“Another thing you should learn quick.” Alex flashed his most charming smile. “I’m street legal, but you really can’t take me anywhere.”
“Not fit for polite society?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Delightful.” Henry leaned into him. “Would you mind coming home with me for Christmas then? I’d love to see what shade of purple my gran would turn at the sight of you.”
“Homophobic?”
“Homophobic, xenophobic, racist. Shall I continue?”
Alex lit up. “Sending an old bigot into cardiac arrest is my love language, Henry.” He pulled his fingers free of Henry’s, replacing them at the soft dip of his waist, arm strong around his back. He lowered his voice. “We should tell her you’re expecting our love child too. Just for texture.”
Henry hummed and placed a hand over his stomach. “But we were ever so careful, dear.”
Alex snorted, falling head first into laughter. He did his best to recover, but Henry ended up having to give the hostess the name on the reservation as Alex wiped away tears and caught his breath. Henry guided him forward, steering him towards their table, and thanking the hostess as she set menus down for them
Henry’s hands roam Alex’s sides. Pressed up against his apartment door, Alex was convinced nothing else was or would ever be so good. Because Henry kissed like it was the end of the world and the beginning of time all at once. Like there was no one else and there would never need to be, so long as Alex was there.
Alex hadn’t managed to make Henry come, but that didn’t seem to factor in any more. Henry seemed more eager to get him in bed, to touch and taste him. Whatever hesitation he’d been harboring at the beginning had well and truly evaporated. Alex had never known trust like that. He didn’t have the words for what knowing that felt like, sitting under his ribs like a tiny nugget of gold.
Alex laid down, turning over in the cramped confines of Henry’s arms bracketing his head. He looks up into stormy ocean blue eyes and wavy sandy hair, and the flicker at the center of his chest burst. Ignited into a flame, then a fire, then something raging and divine.
It moved to consume him whole as swiftly as Henry did. He rolled them, yanking Alex down for a kiss. He sank his lithe fingers into the short hairs at the nape of Alex’s neck and spread his legs for him to lay between them. Alex did, pinning him with a smirk.
Henry wasn’t putting up much of a fight, and clearly wasn’t planning to. Not with the way he stripped them both, then begged to be opened up. He trembled on Alex’s fingers, panted hot into their kisses, and moaned with relief as Alex sank his cock inside him.
Alex wrenched Henry’s fingers from the strangle-hold on his pillow case. He slotted them together, gripping them hard as he moved in him, an instinctual rolling rhythm. Their lips slid together, slow and sweet.
Intoxicating.
Promising.
Alex spilled into the condom, Henry’s lip pinched between his teeth. Henry trembled, then faded. He blinked open, looking delirious and annoyed all at once. Alex thrust a few more times before Henry’s palm in the center of his chest stopped him. With a nod, he pulled out slowly and dealt with the condom. Without thinking, he bent forward to press a kiss to the soft skin of Henry’s belly.
“Ah well,” Henry rasped, sucking in a settling breath. “Never mind.”
He sounded near tears.
Alex patted Henry’s hip and flopped back down on top of him. Before Henry could whine about his weight (he didn’t mean it), Alex rolled them over so Henry was spread over his chest. Alex scratched at the back of his neck, kissed his temple, and teased Henry about squishing him (he wasn’t and Alex didn’t mean it).
Their skin cooled, spread out on Alex’s sheets. The shadows and cuts of street lights patterned his bedroom ceiling. Henry breathed slow and steady, Alex’s breathing matching the pressure and press of each one. When Alex squeezed him around the shoulders, Henry squeezed back. When Henry kissed a chaste trail from shoulder to pulse point, Alex tilted his head to let him.
It was easy. It was slow. It was languid, and delicious, and never the same way twice.
Except for that light but aching never mind.
It was the one thing about Henry that Alex decided he hated.
Percy Okonjo had been eyeing him uncertainly the whole night. His hair made him stand out, his clothes were an attraction all their own, and he’d been flirting gamely with June and Nora all night. Alex was just happy to put a face to the name Henry said with frequency. He was glad to have gotten as much family as they both had in New York all together.
Henry dropped a kiss on his cheek before heading to the bar with Nora for the second round. June excused herself to the bathroom, leaving him and Pez alone at their table.
“So. Alexander,” the man began, jovial tone diminished.
“Pez like the sweets,” Alex answered with a grin.
That got him a smile. “May I ask what your intentions are with my dear Haz?”
“I’m not looking for kudos from shitty white boys, if that’s what you’re asking,” Alex lobbed back.
A smile too feline to be innocent curled on Pez’s lips. “It is. Partly.”
“What’s the other part then?”
“What do you think, strumpet?” Pez asked. “He’s my best friend. Has been for going on thirteen years, and I’ve seen him through more than enough in those years.”
Alex nodded, knowing what the man was getting at.
Henry had layers. Thin, flaky, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them layers, like a croissant turned into a six-foot blond man. Considering how much Henry was a sucker for pain au chocolat, it was an apt comparison. Getting him comfortable enough to reveal all of them was one task. Reassuring him that he was heard when he did spill his secrets was another entirely. Henry had warmed up to him quickly, but had only just started to confide in him. Whatever corner he had turned that made him believe Alex was in it for the long haul, Alex didn’t know. He was just grateful he had.
What Henry had laid out was a history of loss and bottled up feelings.
Growing up wealthy with rigid, impossible rules that his grandmother imposed but his parents laughed at. Knowing by the time he was eleven that he was gay and being terror-struck by the realization until Pez had brought him around. How his father had gotten sick and Henry had told him in the hospital, not sure his father could still hear him. How after the funeral, his sister had tipped over into addiction, and his mother had fallen down a well of depression, leaving the three of them — Henry, Bea, and Phillip — to defend themselves against their grandmother’s iron will. How leaving London for NYU had been the most fearful and most liberating decision Henry had ever made.
“You’re a good friend,” Alex said, even-keeled. “Henry’s told me a bunch that he wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for you.”
Pez blinked. “He doesn’t give his strength enough credit.”
“Maybe not, but he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. And I know you know that.” Alex played with the label on his bottle of Pacifico, picking at the edge with his too-short thumbnail. “I like him a lot. If that’s what you’re asking.”
“Why?” Pez asked, unmoved.
“He’s funny. He’s smart as hell.” Alex sighed. “He’s hot, and I really like telling him he’s hot because he turns red like a tomato. Which is funny, and sweet.” A piece of the “o” comes away on Alex’s thumb and he flicks it away. “I like making him blush. I like making him laugh. I like making him dinner. I like being around him. It’s really simple.”
“Why do you like being around him?” Pez’s expression had softened from guarded to intrigued.
Alex took it as a win. His answer was honest, but more raw than he had understood before it passed his lips. “He makes my brain go quiet. Settles me down, slows me down. I have ADHD, so I hope you can appreciate what that sort of means to me.”
“Ah.” Pez blinked, then sat back upright. “There.” His expression warmed again, something akin to approval flickering in his eyes. “I think we’re going to get along famously, babes.”
“Yeah,” Alex chuckled, catching Henry’s blond hair in the corner of his vision. “I think we are.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Henry slammed his hand against the desk. “Stop. Stop.”
Alex had stilled with the first, slid free of Henry’s body with the second. He rid himself of the condom, but didn’t stray much further than that. He kept a hand on Henry’s shoulder every second. “What’s wrong, Hen?”
Henry had pushed himself upright on the desk, hair askew as he rested his forehead against his palm. “It’s not working.”
“What isn’t working?” Alex smoothed a hand down his spine.
“Nothing!” Henry exclaimed, anger lacing his words. “Not a single fucking thing is working!”
“Henry—.”
“I’m bloody broken, Alex!” Tears welled up and spilled over Henry’s cheeks, frustration tinting his cheeks a rosy red. “Nothing works. Nothing happens. Everything feels incredible and then it’s just gone, and God, if this wasn’t such a bloody fucking waste of your time too—.”
“Hey, woah there.” Alex pulled Henry up to standing, smoothing gentle fingers over the marks the edge of the desk had cut into his hips. “I’ll decide what is or is not a waste of my own damn time, thank you very much.”
“You’re wasting your time with me, Alex.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are!” Henry shouted. He pushed away, dropping down onto the edge of the bed with a fresh sob. “You could be with literally anyone, but you’re here, wasting time with me and my pitiful excuse for —.”
Alex clapped a hand over his mouth. “Do not talk about yourself like that.”
Henry’s eyes widened in surprise.
Alex kept going. “You can say whatever you like about how frustrated you are, how pissed off you are, or how I’m not doing it for you. But I really cannot stand to hear you call yourself broken, Henry. I won’t let you.”
Alex pulled his hand away. Henry glared at him with no real feeling behind it. “But I am, Alex. You’re just too stubborn to see it.”
“You’re not.” Alex kissed him on the cheek and sat next to him. “You’re really, really not, baby.”
Henry tucked his chin and stared at the floor.
Alex wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. “We’re going to stop for tonight, okay?”
Henry nodded.
“Yeah. We need a break. This is stressing you out too bad.” Alex smoothed a hand over the blond strands. “I’m thinking a shower, maybe some Bake Off. Does that sound good to you?”
Henry sniffled and nodded.
“Anything else we should do?”
“Can you make the rice again?” Henry asked weakly after a moment. “The tomato rice?”
“Arroz rojo? I sure can. Would that taste good?”
Henry nodded again.
“Then it’s a done deal.” Alex kissed the crown of his head. “C’mon, Hen. Let me take care of you.”
Henry let himself be pulled to standing, laughing wetly. “You already have, love.”
Alex pushed Henry back onto the bed, fingers skimming the button of his jeans. “Lay back, baby.”
“What’s the point?” Henry mumbled.
“Does there have to be a point?” Alex smoothed his hands over the line of Henry’s hips and thighs. “I mean, the phrase fool around exists for a reason.”
“And that’s still good enough for you?”
“Yeah, it is. I fucking love it, actually.” Alex patted his legs, then tilted forward to loom over Henry. “You kiss like no one else I’ve ever been with.”
“And you have so much experience…” A small smile crept up on Henry’s face in spite of his sour mood.
“I’m going to let that slide, but only because I know you don’t really mean it.” Alex bent forward to kiss him.
Henry greedily met him half way, pulling Alex closer, wrapping him tighter in legs and arms, sinking his piano player’s fingers into his curls to the scalp. Alex rolled their hips together and Henry moaned, hardening under him. Alex let him have his way, let him rut and squirm as Alex stayed steady over him, giving back as much as Henry was giving away.
After four months of consistency, Alex understood his fresh frustration; after nearly three and a half years of nothing, Alex would be ready to tear his hair out. He didn’t blame Henry for his prickly demeanor after every failed moment, but they felt less and less like failures to Alex. He hadn’t yet figured out how to convince Henry of the same.
Alex broke the kiss, pressing their foreheads together as Henry got in one last sweet bite to his lower lip. “What d’you want, baby?”
It had become a thing — baby. Henry’s responding shiver was everything Alex was after. “Suck me.”
“And then?” Alex kissed his temple, then sucked on his earlobe.
“Fuck me.” Henry’s hips twitched against him. Alex nuzzled into his throat finding each one of the sensitive parts he’d found over the months exploring the other man. “Oh hell, Alex. Fuck me hard.”
Alex nipped at the hollow of his throat, then rose back up to take in Henry’s pink cheeks and blown pupils. “Then lift your hips, baby.”
Henry nodded frantically, dropping back against the sheets and fisting the pillow over his head. He watched as Alex peeled his jeans off, tossing them into a corner; each blink leaving shivers across Alex’s skin. Alex reveled in the sensation, peeling his own shirt from his chest; really making a meal of it, if only to make Henry laugh. Alex always wanted to get him out of his head a bit, even if it meant doing a bad impression of a Chippendale’s dancer.
Stripped of his shirt and joggers, Henry laying in nothing more than his boxer briefs, Alex settled back down between Henry’s legs. Alex pulled at the elastic of Henry’s boxers, sliding the fabric down to reveal the top most bit of creamy skin. He nuzzled against Henry there, feeling his hardness and a bit of fresh dampness; soaking in the musk same as he did the flavor of Henry’s skin on his tongue.
He nipped at the fold of Henry’s hip, then smoothed it over with his tongue. Henry’s little yelp sparked something in his gut. Henry’s fingers in his hair again went straight to Alex’s cock and had shivers dancing down his spine.
So Alex did it again. Again, and again, and again; until Henry was panting and squirming. Until plaintive noises flowed from Henry’s throat unbidden. Until Alex could sit back and appreciate his work.
Henry was flushed. His legs were covered with pink and red marks, some dark enough to bruise. Alex had suckled and soothed each of them, leaving them throbbing and tender. Henry would feel every remnant every time he took a step, sat down, squatted to scratch David behind the ears. Henry would feel it, feel him leftover on his skin.
Gorgeous, Alex thought, dazed. “Good, baby?”
“Perfect, darling,” Henry purred. He wasn’t near any sort of edge, but he was looser than he had been mere minutes before. He was golden in the sunset lighting, languid and lovely against the mattress.
“What d’you want, Henry?”
“Anything.”
“That’s not what you said before.”
“What did I say before?” Henry hummed, darkened gaze raking over Alex’s skin.
“That you wanted me to suck you down and fuck you dizzy.” Alex winked.
“Ah.” Henry chuckled. “That. Yes.”
“Still want it?”
“Yes. A lot.” Henry held out a hand to guid Alex back forward. The lube and condoms were in the bedside drawer where he’d left them two days before. Henry’s fingers wandered, tracing patterns over Alex’s torso as he fished the supplies out and tossed them on the bed.
Alex grinned at him. “You got it.”
Alex tucked his face back into the soft underside of Henry’s jaw, moving at a pace that the other man would find excruciating and delightful. He took his time moving from pulse point to collarbone as he warmed the lube and slicked his fingers. He moved back up for a sinfully slow, deep kiss as he teased Henry’s opening.
He felt the moment Henry relaxed into it, fully sank into the sensation and set aside his frustration. Alex was growing more and more thankful every time — that he could settle Henry, warm him up, and make him feel so good. It was some of the best sex Alex had ever had, without even trying. All because of Henry. Finishing aside, Henry was different. Alex wanted to keep him for as long as possible. All of this required vulnerability and trust; and Alex had swiftly developed a whimpering sort of devotion for the leggy blond Brit.
Alex pushed the first finger into him. Henry shivering, even though all Alex did was hold it inside him. When he started moving, it was barely-there circling and slow, shallow thrusts. He’d learned to make the most of Henry’s sensitivity, of the man’s weakness for Alex’s thick fingers.
He sucked a hard mark into the curve of Henry’s waist, adding a second finger to the equation. Henry whined and Alex nipped at his ribs. “So good, baby. Be so fucking loud for me, baby.”
“Christ.”
Alex scissored and stretched him, his own boxers growing damp as every flutter of Henry’s hole around him went straight to his head. “I want the neighbors to hear you. Know that you’re mine and you’re so good for me, and that I make you feel so good. Don’t I, Henry? Make you feel good?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Alex pressed inside as deep as he could go and crooked his finger, just the way Henry had showed him.
Henry pulled his own hair, shoving his shoulders into the mattress as he arched into him.
“Oh, so good,” Alex praised. “So good for me, mi cielo.”
He settled back down between Henry’s legs, lifting one to rest heavy on his shoulder. Horseback riding lessons had done Henry all kinds of favors, no matter how stupid the outfits were. He pressed in a third finger as he sucked a fresh hickey into Henry’s thighs, watching them move inside.
“Vaya,” Alex murmured as Henry’s flush spread. “So, so sensitive aren’t you?”
“Alex, please,” Henry panted, starry-eyed. Nothing else in the world mattered to Alex more than that deep blue stare and glorious awe painting Henry’s handsome face.
Alex tipped forward to lick, right where his fingers stretched Henry’s rim. Henry swore and sobbed, the muscles of his legs contracting as his hips wiggled, trying in vain to thrust back against him. “Yes, you are. So fucking sensitive.”
“Fuck me. Please, please, fuck me.”
“Shh, shh, shh.” Alex rose back up again, kissing the softness of Henry’s belly as he twisted his fingers. “I’ve got you. I love you, Hen.”
Henry gasped, back arching again. His eyes fluttered shut, body trembling. “P-please.”
Alex watched him carefully, heart beating in his throat. Watching every staggered, sucking breath. Every flutter of lashes and bob of his Adam’s apple. Every contraction of muscles in his legs, his hips, his stomach. Alex hadn’t seen him that strung out before. It was exhilarating, beautiful, and he wanted to try his luck.
“I love you,” Alex repeated, stuffing three fingers back in roughly. Henry wailed and he did it again. “I love you so much, baby.”
If Alex had blinked he would have missed it. The moment where Henry’s body seemed to hang on the edge, then seize, and plunge over the edge. Alex froze, holding onto Henry’s leg like a life preserver as he watched his hips buck and his stomach smear white with come.
Henry shook through it, the exertion seeming to rattle through his bones and pour from his mouth. Alex fingered him through it, transfixed as Henry sobbed and, impossibly, laughed.
Alex pulled his fingers out and slide up Henry’s body. He wrapped him up in his arms, peppering his sweaty skin with kisses uncounted. Until Henry came back to earth. Until he gripped Alex’s shoulders and sobbed with obvious, genuine relief.
“Fucking finally.”
Alex laughed into his neck, then kissed his cheek. “Feel good, baby?”
“Brilliant,” Henry rasped, blue eyes watery and grinning at the ceiling. “I’m brilliant, Alex.”
“You looked amazing, Henry. You were amazing.” Alex smoothed a hand over Henry’s sweaty hair. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”
Henry nodded frantically and pulled him in. Alex went, wishing he could get closer than skin; could wrap Henry fully and never leave that bed.
Thursday morning began cold, clear, alone. It had been a long time since Alex woke in bed alone when he wasn’t at home. Usually Henry would be there – it was his bed – reading, biding his time until Alex snuffled awake. Even if David needed a walk, he’d slip back under the covers and tuck against Alex’s chest. The coffee was already made, Henry bundled up on the sofa, staring at a blank television screen.
“Since when do you drink coffee, Hen?” Alex mumbled, holding his own mug close to his chest.
Henry swallowed a mouthful, looking exhausted. “When I can’t sleep.”
Alex sat down next to him, curling up on the cushions. “Why couldn’t you sleep, baby?”
Henry sighed, watery and defeated. Alex wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. “I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Alex inhaled, words lost to him. Love, Henry had said. Henry was in love with him. But, Alex realized with a jolt, he had said afraid too.
He was still talking too.
“I know that this isn’t what you imagined, but I couldn’t help myself,” Henry continued, eyes and nose going red by the second. “You’ve been this ridiculous, desperate reminder that I’ve been closing myself off. That I can be treated and happy, and feel like I deserve it. And that’s all going to go away, isn’t it?”
“Why would it go away, sweetheart?” Alex asked, reaching for him. He was grateful Henry didn’t pull away; heartbroken that he began to curl in on himself again.
“Well. You’ve done it, haven’t you?” Henry whispered. “Gotten me over the mental block. Got me to come, in your mouth no less and—.”
“Shut up,” Alex said without thinking. “Shut all the way up.” He rested a hand on Henry’s jaw, guiding him back to look Alex in the eyes. His heart thudded in his chest — those ocean blues always seemed to do impossible things to him. “When we started this, you asked me if I thought you were a challenge and I said you weren’t. That wasn’t just me talking out of my ass, Henry.”
“Wasn’t it?” Henry sniffed.
“No, it fucking wasn’t!” Alex couldn’t help but squish Henry’s face for emphasis. “It was a promise, sweetheart.”
“Al’f—.”
“If you could just open those pretty eyes and that big brain of yours, you’d see that this wasn’t about getting you off,” Alex plowed on. “It was about spending time with you and making you laugh and blush, because you’re really pretty when you blush, baby. I should’ve told you before, but you’re so, so pretty.”
“Ale-sh.”
“And I’ll admit, I was hoping I’d make you pop your cork, but only because I wanted to see what you looked like. And I’m so glad I did because you’re so, so pretty, Henry. You were gorgeous and I’m not ready to give you up.”
Henry finally shoved his hands away. “You said you loved me.”
Alex nodded. “I know I did.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Henry—.”
“Please,” Henry pleaded. “Please, Alex. Did you mean it?”
“I love you, Henry,” Alex said. “So fucking much, I can’t even pretend to have words for it.”
Henry nodded, swallowing that realization down. “Alright.” He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding and leaned closer to Alex. “Alright.”
Alex smirked. “Alright?”
“Yes,” Henry said, cotton-mouthed with tears. “Because I love you.”
Alex’s relief was instantaneous. “You love me?”
“I love you,” Henry repeated. “Most ardently.”
Alex chuckled. “And not just because I made you come?”
“Oh shut up and kiss me, you bloody menace.”
Alex had never been happier to do exactly that.
Henry shivered, nearer to the precipice than he imagined. His head rolled heavy on his neck, arms shaking from the effort of staying upright. Alex’s arm was firm around his middle, his breath hot on his skin. He flexed his fingers again. Pleasure zinged through him, every nerve on fire. His mouth dropped open, but no moan sounded. His voice was shot.
Alex grinned, panting. “Knew you could take all of it.”
His brain swam, words meaningless under the swell of sensation as Alex rolled his wrist against his rim. As the duckbilled fingers inside him spread at ignited every nerve.
Alex’s tongue chased the sweat down his spine.
Henry sobbed, hips tightening as release came closer and closer. “F-Fuh-.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“S-so.” Henry felt his body fling itself over the edge and laughed. “Full.”
Even after months, it was still a fantastic feeling, unravelling once again. His body, singing electric once again, under expert and attentive fingers. It only came in second best to the shine of Alex’s smile, dark eyes greedily taking in every moan, lurch, wail, and sob as if he’d never seen anything so beautiful.
That, Henry knew, was the most glorious thing on the planet.